I hate my life in my room after my roomie has moved in. There are so many things about him that is irritating. Ever since he had come, I have had problems reading to my newspaper; The Times of India. The delivery guy gets my copy everyday after 8 O' Clock. On days when I have to leave even before, I might not even get to read it. Either him or his 'friends/batchmates' (all are SOBs) take my paper away, make a mess out of it and might not even care to keep it back.
I hate that. In fact I hate it when I don't get a fresh copy of newspaper. I have a a slight obsession with that. But what's wrong in expecting your newspaper, which you pay for, everyday?
Today, this issue went inflammatory (got the word of Greg Chappel's dictionary after India's shock first round exit from the World Cup of Cricket). After a tiring day which started at 7.45 AM, I came back home at around 12 AM (midnight) and didn't find my newspaper. I asked my roomie if his 'friend' had taken it.
He was so pissed, he said 'Kris, I don't know where your newspaper is. I have not seen it. Why don't you go tell him (his friend) about your problem. Why should I interefere.'.
Fucken I was so irritated I didn't want to even shout. I got out of my room and went to watch some cricket on TV downstairs at the mess.
"An honest confessional, with a sprinkle of humor and opinion, of an academician/musician seeking happiness" Find me now on https://enagyginglife.wordpress.com
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