Return to bachelor pad can be scary after time off

There are certain things I just have to do when I get back to Moses Lake after spending a little time away.

I have to say hi to the thing living in my refrigerator, for instance.

Me: "Hi thing. Brought you this memento of Spokane."

Thing: "Thanks, Matthew. Neat, a commemorative mug! Oh, by the by, you should have heard the things the couch was saying about you while you were gone …"

After the social niceties - I hate having roommates, even if they're roommates who originated from a plate of old nachos and an ancient box of Canadian bacon and black olive pizza - I go through the act of unloading all the food I brought in my cooler from wherever I was, stuff we cannot get in the area: Mom and Dad's home cooking, for one, the recipes I have not yet perfected on my own.

Some things just need to be prepared at home, you know?

Then I have to go through the motions and check under the bed. This is both for monster inspection and because I think I have a hole somewhere in the apartment, because I keep finding supermodels under there.

They have to be getting in somehow.

Fortunately, they tend to giggle nervously in my presence and so can easily be caught and sent upon their way, along with an urging to go eat a whole meal, for once, for pete's sake.

Then when I'm all done with that -

Giggle giggle nervous giggle

Whoops. Sorry, missed one. There you go, dear. Eat a little something more than a salad. Steaks are your friend. Sigh. Sorry folks, for the upkeep on your downtime.

Then when I'm all done with that, I go collect my mail, which either got picked up by a good friend or stayed with the workers at the post office.

Then I head back to my apartment, collapse and breathe a sigh of relief. I'm home, and there are still a few hours before bed, before I have to get up and head into work the next day, during which at some point I can virtually guarantee I will ask myself, "Isn't it about time you went on vacation?"

Giggle giggle nervous giggle

Oh, fiddlesticks. I need to invest in some humane traps.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go have a stern lecture with a rather smart-cushioned couch which has apparently gotten too big for its upholstery.