Back in Utah

So when I got home last night I was really worried that my apartment was going to be a mess. I was fairly surprised that it wasn't too bad, so I was in a relatively good mood last night while unpacking and getting ready for bed.

When I woke up this morning to have breakfast before going to work I start looking around the kitchen and realize that my opinions of my roommates have gone down over the years if the kitchen "wasn't too bad." Here is what is considered not that bad: dishes piling in the sick, cooked food on the counter, maybe a few dried sauce bits on the counter, a backpack, and a pile of mail. There were no clean bowls, but there were clean utensils and cups. The living room only had a few jerseys on the floor, and one bag of trash sitting around. Other than that there was nothing on the floor, except down the hall there was laundry bag (but no large piles of laundry). A little bit of my cereal was eaten, but not as much as I had expected. And I think that's about it.

As this thought went through my head this morning I started laughing. It really is sad, that that is a good day.