If you know anything about me and my home life, you would know that I am practically narcoleptic. Okay, so I'm not really. What happens is I do not fall asleep, but rather pass out when my body has had enough off its existence. Proof of this is the many facebook pictures people post of me passed out at parties, etc. Invariably, lights are left on in my apartment and I have many crummy nights of sleep on my futon in weird positions.
It just so happens that on Friday evening at 3 am, I am woken from this state by a knock on the door. Disoriented and confused, I open the door to a really enthusiastic college-aged girl who I want to call Cheryl (only because I was really only half awake when she introduced herself), my neighbor in unit 225.
"Hi! I'm Cheryl. [I think] I live in 225. I was walking around the complex and I noticed your lights were on. I need a 1/2 a cup of milk."
In my state of half-consciousness, I allowed this perky stranger (emphasis on strange) into my apartment and poured milk into her measuring cup. The walk from the door to the kitchen and back seemed way longer than it needed to be. I have recollections of talking about whether I went to UT, what I did for a living, when she moved in...yadda yadda.
Then, she says something that at that moment I did not want anything to do with, "I don't have my phone on me, but we should totally exchange numbers!"
In my state, I looked around for my phone and gave up with a "just come and knock, I'm here a lot."
Lesson learned. Bad karma comes to those who waste energy lighting.
Hilarious.
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