Ok, so I work from 22:30 to 07:00 weekdays, and 20:00 to 04:30 Sundays. It never, ever, ever changes. So yesterday, Sunday, at 15:30, I walk into the house where I've been living for six weeks.

Roommate: Did you just get off work?

Me (apart): How the FUCK would I be getting off work at 15:30??? (Aloud:) No, I went to church.

Today, I'm leaving the house at 17:15.

Roommate: Are you going to work?

Me (apart): Fucksakes you moron, how the FUCK would I be going to work at 17:15???? (Aloud:) No.

Roommate: Church?

Me (apart): ????? How the FUCK would I be going to church Monday at 17:15? (Aloud:) No. I'm going to the library. (Ed: I added that part to avoid sounding too curt.)

Roommate: Is it far to walk?

Me: It's downtown.


Ok, here is the thing, you stupid fuck: if you want to get all up in my business, memorize my schedule, like normal stalkers do. I'm so fucking tired of answering your lame questions every time I come and go. Good thing I'm moving again...