Rug burn on my bald spot.

Monday night was interesting, and that was with me going to bed at 9:30pm.
Or, okay. When I tell Bill I'm "going to bed early" on a Monday night, that means "Dear FUCK I hate professional wrestling but I love my boyfriend too much to express that sentiment in his hearing so...I'm tired." Much like when I tell Natalie I can't do something/go somewhere because I "have to study," 90% of the time it actually means, "Go away and get Alex to indulge you."
She thinks it's because I really do have to study, or think I have to study, so she also thinks I'm much more wrapped up in academics than is necessary. I'm apparently good at making typing this shit look like I'm working on a Master's thesis from across the room.
Living with her has made me decide two things I've suspected for awhile: 1. I hate living with other people and 2. I don't like her.
I don't feel like elaborating on either of those except to say that if she again either 1. doesn't bathe for a week or 2. obsesses over shit that (repeat before, with, and after me, por favor) DOES NOT MATTER, I'll punch her in the face.

Anyway. Bill got rug burn on his bald spot by wrestling Janet, who's a hundred pounds lighter than he is but has a mean headlock.
Bill and I also discussed the awkwardness of getting sunburn on one's penis. Context: while Natalie and Alex were making pizza in the downstairs kitchen, leaving the room wide open and my bed unobservable, I basically trapped Bill between my thighs and had my way with him. Naked, of course, and afterward we just lay there for awhile, and I mused on the possibilities of starting my own nudist colony, and that led to my announcement that if I ever get my own pool, I'm totally going to skinny dip. Bill said he'd join me but only when it's shady.

Current Project:
Wrote--well, "channeled" is a more accurate word for the poems I end up with. I never intend to write poetry. I'm not a fan of poetry; I think it's way too ephemeral to capture. But sometimes it comes out. This one's called "Blood on My Hands" and I just posted it to writing.com.
Am also in the process of short story-ing last Friday night, when I went to the radio station's dance party and had an excellent time dancing (!) and flirting heavily with Alex's brother Ed.
It'll be called "Vertical Expression," be about monogamy or lack thereof, and is pretty much all true except the last bit from the kiss on. Haven't written that part yet but should be fun.
No word yet from anybody I've sent shit to, but it's only been maybe two weeks.