Alpha kinda weekend

I'm standing in what we loosely call our kitchen. It's basically a 4x10 closet with a sink and a microwave. Only one person can fit in there at a time and there is always a slightly 'rotten' stink emanating from the sink. I don't like to leave my food unattended while it's in there. I have visions of a vague 'something' dropping on it or hopping in it while I'm not looking. There is also a very good chance someone will stop the microwave and put whatever they are having for lunch in there instead, feigning ignorance and proclaiming, "It had already stopped and beeped, I'm so sorry," as they grin and sit down to eat their already cooked food. Yeah, it's happened before.

I roll my head back and look at the ceiling idly tossing my plastic spork from hand to hand. Thoughts of my weekend fight with the constant drone of the microwave. In bits and pieces I remember:

I saw Alpha Dog with my sister on Saturday, we both cried. I was surprised by how good it actually was, though the language and drug use was over done in my humble opinion. Afterwards, I went home and sketched. (I'm working on a Star Wars project).

I hear beeping and click the button that is supposed to open the little door so I can get my food. It doesn't open so I have to hold the button, pull with my hands, and stick my tongue out just right. I lean down to survey my lunch. It's still frozen. I breathe rather loudly (It's something I do when I'm frustrated) and then instantly regret it as a rather nasty smell invades my nostrils. I slam the door shut rather hard and push the timer angrily. I cross my arms in defiance too. That'll show it I think! I look down and notice the shininess of my black spork. I breathe on it and balance it on my nose. I grin proudly and leave it there my thoughts going back to Sunday and how much I hate rain.

I wake up on Sunday morning and it's raining. We were supposed to get ice and snow but the temperatures didn't drop enough so all we got was cold rain. I look at the clock and realize that I've woken up pretty early (for me anyway) it's 8 in the morning! I grin evilly and rush into my aunts room. She's sleeping very soundly. I interrupt her lovely sleep by loudly asking if the dogs have been outside. (She's been giving me a hard time about making my breakfast before they go outside because it's such a distraction. *rolls eyes* You'd just have to know her.) She rolls over sleepily and grumpily lets the dog out, mumbling to herself the whole way. I stand in the kitchen and watch her go back to her room. The grin is still there as I shrug my shoulders and announce, "You know? I'm not really that hungry." I'm laughing to myself all the way to the shower. Is this what one calls passive-agressive? I pretty much veg for the rest of the day, but at least it was spent in good company.

It beeps again and this time I'm satisfied when I take a peek. By that, I mean there is no more ice crystals decorating the surface of the food and the cheese looks at least half-melted. I grab my trusty spork and head out.

Here's a rough work-in-progress sketch of my project: