“After about two days I was clawing at the walls. Get me outta here, you know? I just wanted to be outside or doing work or something.”
Verdict: I hate you, eat my balls please.
*
“I don’t know. Two or three days is good, but after that I just start getting bored.”
Verdict: I won’t ask you to eat my balls, but don’t think this means we are friends.
*
“It was pretty great. My house is actually a lot dirtier than when I left for vacation. ”
Verdict: We can probably hang out.
*
“I had the best intentions. I had a to-do list. Some of the stuff was so simple. One of the things was to clean the inside of my windshield. I did that thing where it gets foggy inside and you wipe it and then it leaves streaks? That was in the winter. It’s July and I still didn’t get to it. How many things did I accomplish over my break? Well, nothing from the list, unless there’s a list item I missed that involved discovering a new TV show I don’t really even like and watching the entire series in the span of two days. Not a season, the SERIES. Aaaaand just repeat that process a couple more times and you’ve pretty much got my vacation all wrapped up.”
Verdict: I like you. Pass me a weird note sometime, hot stuff. If I ever ask you to eat my balls, it will be in a much more polite and romantic way. As romantic as that can be, anyway.