I am mining my own business.

I got home with bags full of necessities. My hands were full and my stomach was empty, but I didn’t think my roommate would hear my stomach growl through the door so I knocked on it with my forehead. Ow.

“What day is it?” someone called through the door.

“Friday,” I replied, which must have been the password because the door opened automatically. Then someone that looked like my roommate popped out from behind it. I decided to make sure it was them. “What’s the square root of purple?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” they said.

“Anything makes sense if you think of it long enough.”

“What if it’s illogical?”

“Then get rid of logic,” I said.

“But what do you replace it with?”

It may have been the right question, but it was not a good question. “Anything you like.” Obviously.

“What I like are chips,” my roommate complained, “will you pass them already? I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Put the ice cream away first,” I handed them the tubs of vanilla and cookie dough ice creams. Now I was satisfied they were who they appeared to be. Preoccupation with chips over illogic was one of my supposed roommate’s consistent traits. There was still one mystery: “Why did you ask me what day it was? Anyone could answer that.”

“Because only you would forget it’s St. Patrick’s Day. On a Friday night.”

“Oh. But I don’t have any plans.”

“Then plan to put your laundry away, it’s been sitting in the dryer for two days.”

“OK,” I shrugged.

“What do you mean, ‘OK’?”

“I mean, ‘OK, moving on.’”

My roommate occasionally makes this noise that sounds a bit like a cat coughing up a hairball, but with a lot more restraint, and a face that lets you know you are the hairball. This was one of those times.

“I need the dryer tonight and I’m throwing your clothes out if they’re still there,” they said.

“How do you know when you need the dryer that far in advance? I’m still not sure if I need it or don’t, those clothes might need to be dried at any moment.”

My roommate took the tub of vanilla ice cream and retreated to their room, muttering about a ‘happy place’. More cookie dough for me; it was going to be a good Friday night. I took my tub of ice cream and retreated to my own room. I’d heard it was important to have a happy place but most places were the same to me so I promptly forgot why.

“Hey guys,” I said into the microphone, “What’s going on?”

“Just scanning wormholes,” Price said too loudly and directly into both of my ears. I jumped. I turned my headphones down. “There’s a good one with a batch of minerals two systems over.” I flew over to check it out.

“Wow,” a muffled voice from behind me said, “When are you going to mind your own business so I don’t have to mind it for you?”

“I am mining my own business,” I said as I extracted the minerals. “Besides, WoW is a different game.” Uh oh, pirates. I prepared to jump out of the system.

And that’s when a pile of laundry fell on my head and I almost died.