Parting is s...o freaking sweet

At the risk of sounding like a heartless ogre, today might be the greatest day of my life.

The flat is nearly spotless. I can see the floor, and the couch, and a huge, menacing garbage bag isn't blocking the entrance from the entrance way to the living room.

And oh yes, the flatmates are gone.

Not without a parting gift, however! I awoke this morning and stumbled into the kitchen to start up breakfast when Katie motioned me over to the door of our bedroom. She flipped one light switch. Nothing happened. She flipped the other. Nada.

I could hear Diana from her perch on the disgusting couch - "Oh, yeah... I decided to straighten my hair this morning (she has not once straightened her hair the entire trip) and I blew a fuse."

The lights in our bedroom are out. The lights in the living room are out. The lights in the upstairs midget room are out. One of our outlets is kaput.

The last final goodbye of a long, sometimes tedious, often entertaining, living relationship with our dear flatmates.

I am sure I will be thinking warm, fuzzy thoughts about my flatmates when the clock hits 2:59 p.m. and the sun begins to set prematurely over Greenwich time, and I am stuck in the dark for the rest of the day.