DON'T FUCKING WAKE ME UP.
That's all. I'm pretty sure it makes sense. If I've been up late doing shit, DON'T FUCKING WAKE ME UP.
Nadia. Why do you have to eat breakfast outside my bedroom? Actually, no, that's fine. That doesn't wake me up. The part that wakes me up EVERY SINGLE DAY is when she's nearly done with her bowl of cereal and for some unknown reason needs to clink clink CLINK her spoon against her plate to get those last little scraps. It's the exact pitch that penetrates sleep, and she does it EVERY MORNING.
And of course today is my one day off work. Plus I'm stressed out with uni stuff. Normally when she wakes me up (it's at least once or twice a week) she doesn't get hit with my anger cos I normally just knock on Shuba's door and whinge. Today I did that too, but then Nadia came into the kitchen and was like, "Good Morning!" and I was like, no. I told her that the plate clanking was waking us up every morning and she said she'd work on it. She said she eats in the sunroom because it's the nicest part of the house, and I told her that's fine, just not to clink the plates. She asked if it was the chair scraping on the ground and her making the breakfast and all that. Nope, just the fucking plate clanging. I had planned not to say anything at all, cos in my mind I keep thinking, "One week to go, you can do this!" but unfortunately when she came into the kitchen she caught me off-guard, and I'd been awake for a solid 5 minutes, so I was cranky.
Actually, I'm proud for the restraint I used: no swearing, no yelling, no anger, even a couple of smiles.
I'm so fake.