It seems like every time I come home to Baby Versailles, there is a new note affixed to a surface or appliance. Such as.
I have, admittedly, turned on the lamp once or twice, while I was reading. But I turned it off when I was done! I swear! Now the lamp is never on during the afternoon, only at night, when no one is around. Another note informs me I’m also not allowed to open the curtains during the day (in order to keep the A/C inside), so I am banished with my reading material to my room, with its thin Ikea mattress and cold, cement floor.
Baby Versailles feels increasingly like a correctional facility for extremely girly offenders.
Even more disturbingly, I recently found the coasters I had placed on the living room coffee table had been summarily dismissed to my kitchen counter. Coasters! Coasters are the most reliable marker of a responsible adult! Since college, I’ve worked hard to cultivate my image as a coaster-owner, and have made the hard decision to cut anyone (close friends, family members) who doesn’t use coasters out of my life. My biggest objection to living on the moon, in the event of nuclear apocalypse? No gravity = no coasters = not acceptable.
One of my roommates confronted me about my coffee-maker, which had made its home on the counter. because that’s where I make coffee. Miss Roomie indicated that there is a strict limit to how many appliances you can have on your counter. Since I already have a rice-cooker, I’m shit out of luck. “It has to be show-room ready!” she said, echoing the note. Should I ladle boiling water into the coffee maker under the cabinet? I retreated to review the terms of my lease. It contains no mention of this show-room business, or a limit to counter top appliances. It also doesn’t say “Fuck your coasters.”
Apparently, my landlady doesn’t just stop by to drop off bouquets of baby’s breath. She conducts regular sweeps of the house, to make sure there aren’t any unwelcome signs of human life.
I went to take a shower, to cleanse myself of the unwelcome feeling that all my living habits were being assessed more closely than I’d prefer.
BAM. No escape!
My hands shaking with fear. I looked down and saw a note taped to my naked body, reminding me to loofah.