There Was Someone in My House: Difference between revisions
(Created page with "I was out celebrating god knows what, partying and drinking all night. Life was good. I was even feeling rather proud of myself for stopping a brawl happening at the last pub I was at. I felt like "the good guy". Cue 5 30 in the morning, and I am having my last Jagerbomb and prepare to trudge the three blocks to my lovely house and my two beautiful gods and cat. Swaying side to side, walking confidently but with a swagger while whistling a tuneless but rather heath son...") |
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[[Category:Originally on r/shittynosleep]] |
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Latest revision as of 21:27, 16 September 2022
I was out celebrating god knows what, partying and drinking all night. Life was good. I was even feeling rather proud of myself for stopping a brawl happening at the last pub I was at. I felt like "the good guy".
Cue 5 30 in the morning, and I am having my last Jagerbomb and prepare to trudge the three blocks to my lovely house and my two beautiful gods and cat.
Swaying side to side, walking confidently but with a swagger while whistling a tuneless but rather heath song, I approach my home and fumble in my pockets for the key. I can't find it. I must have lost it, perhaps left it at the last place I was at.
Not being perturbed in the least, I knew confidently that the door at the back of the house directly behind the tool shed was closed but unlatched. I do love my tool shed. Don't all the good guys? I snickered at the notion and proceeded to work the window open.
I climbed in, heading to the kitchen, making an ungodly amount of noise in the process and getting myself the milk container from the fridge. I drank directly from it. Who was going to stop me? I was the king of the castle. A single bachelor with my own pad that anyone would be envious of.
Then I heard a scream behind me. Startled, I swivel around to see a woman in a nightshirt. She is beside herself. In my drunken stupor I can't quit understand what she is on about.
Then it hits me. The adrenaline made me more sober than a nun at communion. It was my wife. My EX-wife. She was telling me to get out or she would call the cops.
She had divorced me 3 weeks ago and got everything. The house, the dogs, the cat, and the savings we had.
All because I cheated on her. I had been in a drunken stupor for the past 3 weeks trying to forget the fact that I was not only living out of my car, which had now been impounded anyway, but that I was a cheating scum. I was not "the good guy" as I had thought just a minute ago. My life was a ruin. I heard the sirens approach and took another swig on the milk container.
Credited to Ya-Dikobraz
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