Floating down like a brick

[the_wanlorn]

I suppose I shall make a Thanksgiving post at some point, even though it was an uneventful day. Right now, I'm more concerned by what I was greeted with on my return to the dorm. Friday night, I skipped up the stairs and unlocked my door, glad to be back. Peering into my room, I noticed a whole bunch of white stuff on the floor. I assumed that, somehow, some papers had been blown across the room, or something. After all, what else is white and found in a bedroom? So, I flip on the light. GOLLY GEE it was BRIGHT in there! Brighter than I'd ever seen it! Bright like a thousand suns were exploding over my head! (Okay, maybe not that bright. Maybe just one sun exploding.) I look up and see... my ceiling light. Bare of any sort of covering. I look around at the white pieces on the floor and realize it's the cover to my light. ... Yeah, that's right. The plastic covering had somehow been jostled off and shattered on the floor. What makes this even more fucked up is that the day before I left, I noticed something white drifting down out of the corner of my eye. It was the cover, falling onto the floor. So I pulled my bed over, climbed up, and "screwed"* it back on. I thought it was fine and dandy. I guess not. I guess while I was gone it decided to fall like a brick instead of float like a feather. Fucker. What I want to know is, how did it get jostled loose? Is it from the people in the room above me bouncing around on the floor as they do? Did each rattle of their feet pounding on the floor bounce it a little further along until it finally feel? If it is, what the fuck you guys. What. The. Fuck. *I say "screwed" because, well, it's really held on by three nails. You align the slots, put it up, and turn it a bit so the nails are underneath the lip, holding it up. One of those deals.

Comments

[princessjessia.livejournal.com]

I say you get yourself a broom and beat back at these people!

Now I am left to ponder why it broke this time but not the last time... possessed plastic. *nods*

[the-wanlorn.livejournal.com]

Oh gods, I've considered. But I'm pretty sure I'm right below one of the RA's bedrooms and I don't think she'd take kindly to someone beating on the floor/ceiling between us. ;-)

I've come to the conclusion that either there's a poultergeist who specializes in plastic in my room, or it landed on a bunched up towel last time.

I'm going with the poultergeist. ;-)