I heard on NPR on Friday morning that approximately 1 million people were making a grand exodus from the D.C. area that day to spend the holidays with their families. Included in that million is every single one of my acquaintances here (except one of my mom's friends from the olden days with whom I will spend the actual holiday and a fellow member of the tribe with whom I will nosh on Chinese food, as we Chosen are wont to do).
One of those departing ones, an angel I will call The Blessed One, gave me the keys to her lovely apartment for my use this entire week. I walked in there this Friday after work and nearly wept with pure joy. It smelled faintly of clove, not of stale death. There was a pleasant glow from the Christmas lights instead of the harsh fluorescent glare to which I've become accustomed. The surfaces were clean and free from chunks of mystery meat. The bathroom was immaculate, instead of-- well, you know what I'm living with here.
Best of all, there was a plush couch I could stretch out on when I wanted to read or when I wanted to watch a movie. It didn't smell like homeless man.
The Blessed One has my eternal and undying thanks for giving me the very best present I could ask for: an entire week of tranquility away from the Man-Child. Thank you, thank you, thank you.