After a recent turn of bizarre and unexplainable events, I have no choice but to assume that the previous tenant of my unit has moved back in. What I’m trying to get at is that there’s a poltergeist living rent-free at the Chowderhead Headquarters.
Every time I come home something’s out of place. And then I start second guessing myself:
“Did I leave the pencil on that side of the counter, or was it this side?”
“How did the milk end up back in the fridge? Wait, did I even drink milk tonight?”
“Hmm. I don’t remember leaving that couch in the middle of the fucking living room?”
I’m starting to get used to it. As a matter of fact, I don’t even really mind these paranormal shenanigans anymore. What I do mind is that the dead jerk that’s lounging around here free of charge isn’t pulling his weight when it comes to maintaining the house.
I’m only surmising, but it seems that after people cross over, domestic responsibility goes out the window (that I don’t remember leaving open) because every single ghost that I’ve ever not-exactly-encounted doesn’t do anything around the house except stand, float around, move unimportant objects from one side of the room to the other, or bang on shit. I’d like to offer a suggestion to these still-lingering, free-loading spirits:
PICK UP A FUCKING TOILET BRUSH AND START EARNING YOUR KEEP!
Geez, what are you even doing here if you’re just gonna float around and stare at people? There is work to be done here. The vegetable drawer of my fridge looks like a penicillin experiment and all you ever manage to do is stand at the foot of my queen-sized at night with a flashlight on your face.
Leave me alone. Your business is done here. If you wanna talk you’ll have to wait a little while longer. If not, make yourself a little more useful around the casa. Your swifter-duster-phobic asses do nothing for the living, with the exception of driving us all to the mental illness tabs of WebMD.
Then again, maybe the people that chose to stick around for a couple centuries longer are here for some important reason. You know, unfinished business. Like, looking for a lost wallet or keys or something. Or maybe it’s just to drive me out of my mind. Either way, do us all a favor:
Walk. To. The. Bright. Dot.
Good riddance, you lazy pests!
– Keep your night lights on, Chowderheads \m/