Pumpkin Pie Orange
Pumpkin Pie Orange
I came home last night and my roommate says “I have a surpriiiiise for yooooou” in a sing-song voice. The surprise? Exhibit A: our kitchen. Once white, now basketball orange. Community centres use 3 colours: white, pea green and basketball orange. This is basketball orange. In our kitchen. OUR kitchen.
My immediate reaction? :
I calmly tried to contain my outrage, which expressed itself via lots of blinking, nervous twitches and a stutter: “so, so, so why did you do this? Why did this seem like a good idea? What made you tell yourself to do this?”
I was hoping for an answer involving a gun or some other life-threatening scenario where he had no other choice. Instead he says “well… I had a dream that we had an orange kitchen, so I did it”.
You know, I have dreams where all my teeth fall out and I can fly but I don’t go walking face-first into a doorknob then jump off a building… but I digress. Instead of choking him I do the complete opposite and reassure him that everything is going to be OK. We can fix this together. We can make this work. All we need is a few touch ups and a new light fixture and it will look fantastic. Then I forget all about it until this morning where I was so pissed it compelled me to write a blog about it.
While flames were burning the sides of my face I asked to see the swatch so that I could name the hue of anger: Pumpkin Pie. For those of you who don’t know him, he has an obsession with food. He has been talking about pumpkin pie since the first leaf fell and this bizarre obsession has manifested itself onto the kitchen walls. I am not running a goddamn Harvey’s. This isn’t over.
And you say you still wanna room with him into a smaller apt? The distance between your anger and his self wouldn’t be large enough to diffuse your emotions. Just sayin’
I love the guy but at times I want to fly at his throat and choke him.