Something weird is happening in my living room.

I keep hearing pieces of a conversation that my boyfriend is having with himself.

“How crazily confusing!”

“This must be easy to put together, it didn’t come with instructions.”

“This guy probably goes with that. These guys go over here….probably”

These phrases have all been uttered in the last two minutes….to himself. Unless he’s talking to the dog. She does manage to tilt her head and seem like she’s listening.

I’m hiding upstairs. Because you know what he is putting together down there?

No seriously, guess.

Because it might be the worst thing you could imagine.

Ready for it???

A practice drum kit. Yeah, I know. Guess who decided 2010 would be a good year to learn to play the drums?

I’m just thankful its not an actual drum kit that makes actual drum noises. And I’m patting myself on the back for talking him out of the electronic version that did make noise. This just appears to make a dull thud noise, and has no symbols. Though to be honest with you, it sounds like things are going poorly down there, so it might not even get put together. Fingers crossed.

(More crazy noises and “what the fuck is this thing?” I’m afraid. I’m really afraid.)

I quietly escaped upstairs after salting my chicken (more on that tomorrow. Why does that sound slightly dirt?) and immediately ran to itunes to buy new music. Because my ipod is clearly going to get lots of use while he practices.

I’m now the proud owner of “The Essential Cyndi Lauper”. Because girls just wanna have fun, and ignore the banging from downstairs.

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