Monday, March 24, 2008

Sign Here

The wind is blowing like a mofo tonight and I keep hearing my bamboo windchimes clank together outside the living room window - one more thing I have to remember to take with me when I leave this hell hole in a month. Yes, it's back to hell hole status in this house and actually it's technically still a little longer than a month before I move out.
Apartments are surprisingly scarce in the area I want to live in - apparently I'm not the only one that is so far from owning a house it's not even funny. Of course buying a house seems so...domesticated, grown up, final and therefore not my style at the moment. I've narrowed it down to three complexes with one winning me over more and more everyday. And, naturally, it's the most expensive. I mean, I'm talking, holy-fuck-what-am-I-even-thinking-moving-into-this-place kind of expensive. Living by yourself costs a lot of goddamn money. It's like the almighty apartment gods are shunning me for being single and not wanting to fear for my life while residing in the ghetto - the only place I can actually afford an apartment. Some of the places I went and looked turned me away because they didn't even have any one bedroom openings - another pissy sign from the apartment gods - which in turn sent me into a somewhat pitiful crying fit when I got home from hunting with my mom the other day. God, what a cry baby. I'm just fucking irritated with life right now. Fucking job, fucking asshole ex, fucking broke as hell, fucking apartment gods being bitches...But you'd never guess it if you saw me on the weekends. I smell debt and/or lots of groveling at my parents' feet coming on...
The places I'm looking at now only have a few open around May 1st, which makes me all the more anxious to sign away my soul. There's still one floorplan I want to peek at before making my descision, but the people at that complex keep diddledicking around saying it's not in "viewing shape." Like I give a shit. I just want to see if I can stand the way it's set up. If they think the last apartment they showed me there was in "viewing shape"...Maybe I don't want to see it afterall. If I don't get a phone call in the next two days, it may come down to me putting on my assertive face, marching my ass in there and demanding I see this shithole "not in viewing shape" apartment or else I'm scratching them off of my list. Yeah, I'm so intimidating - all 5 foot 2, 112 pounds of me - but I'm scrappy...kinda. Hey, all they really want is my money right? If I threaten not to give it to them maybe they'll listen...or they'll just wait until tomorrow when somebody else comes and leases the apartment with the crazy apartment demand boom the area is having unbeknownst to me. It wasn't supposed to be this difficult!
If I don't slap my signature and several hundred bucks down soon, I'll be forced to go with plan B - Rent a storage pod (holy hell - ASSLOADS of unnecessary money spent there) and...wait for it...move in with my parents until the June 1st apartments are ready (DUN DUN DUUUUUUNNN!). It's not about my parents, they're the best kind of parents to move back in with - it's the fact that I'll be 25 fucking years old and LIVING WITH MY PARENTS. God, like I need another blow to my ego right now. Why don't you just tie me up and strip me naked in the town square and have people throw trash at me? I'm such a princess sometimes I swear. At least I'm not going to be out on the street, but my life will still feel like it's on hold for another month. Except of course my parents don't usually tend to call me a stupid cunt bitch whore like my current "roommate." Yes, what a lovely "human being" he's turned out to be...
Some semi-fabulous news - my sister's friend works for one of the companies where I applied for a marketing job and she called me tonight saying she would "talk to a couple people." Hooray! Oh PLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEASE, please make this happen. Year three at my current job is looming terribly close and I've already started repeating myself for the third time - as in covering annual events for the third time. I know it's only March, but if I'm not careful, my third August will creep up on me along with my third experience covering the Leavenworth County Fair, which means my third year of slopping through pig, horse, chicken, cow and mongoose shit and thus surely my demise. Third time's a charm afterall. Damn, I never thought that would be the way I'd go - trampled facedown into a pit of excrement by 4-H children and their farm animals...and mongooses.
But, tomorrow in another day - another day closer to calming the shit storm that is my life. Bring it on.

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