I have been away for much too long. Mostly because the past thirty days popped my bubble and then shook the bubble batter and then spilled it all over my favorite dress.
Perhaps a simpler way of saying this would be that the universe took a giant shit on me.
Or, it just kept throwing punches at me and each time I got up, I was right back down.
You get the point (and probably got it after the first metaphor).
In the past month my leasing company terminated my lease which then left me to find a new place to live in a matter of three weeks to avoid paying rent for the month of June. Then classes started. And I had to work. And I went to San Francisco because I had planned that trip well before any of this happened (I had a great time and will write about it later). Oh, and while I was in San Francisco the left side of my head started hurting as a result of an infection in one of wisdom teeth. Then when I got back I missed my first day of classes due to my dentist appointment, and then had my wisdom teeth out and had to move the following weekend - Memorial day weekend, the weekend that NO ONE was in town to help. And amidst the move I lost my computer because someone (Dad!) told someone else to put it under the seat of the Uhaul, but no one thought to tell me and I thought it was in my Dad's mini-van and then well, whatever, I got it back. And then the week after living in my new apartment and getting relatively settled, I dropped a box of stuff off at a thrift store and thought I'd look around for a new couch. I was in for twenty minutes and when I came out someone had left a huge dent in my rear bumper and broken the left side's lights, but there wasn't any plastic on the ground, weird. Like, they cleaned it up or something and didn't leave a note. My car was already shitty, but I liked that it didn't have any defining features. Ugh.
Anyway, all of that happened. And now I am driving my new roommate nuts with all my organizing and rearranging and insisting that our apartment look like two adults live here. Though, I do recognize the fact that most people, regardless of their age, do not care about cleanliness and neatness and orderliness as much as I do. I keep moving things to logical locations that allow all the space to be used as efficiently as I know how, and he keeps asking me where it went. His laffy taffy? On the top shelf of the pantry with all his other junk food - but really that makes up at least half of his diet. It's bizarre. And he is Vegan. And he does not cook or really eat vegetables, unless french fries and potato chips count. His diet aside, he is wonderful, mostly because he is putting up with my neuroses better than most. And he has a full-time job, and responsibility and dogs, and these are things that do not frustrate me, because it means he has a real life, with little free time, unlike my roommates of past. I love both of those girls, but it's kind of irritating living with someone who is unemployed and perfectly content with that because they're full-time students. How anyone is okay with being jobless is beyond me. How anyone has so much unstructured time and doesn't feel compelled to fill it with cooking and cleaning and organizing is also beyond me.
I would make an incredible assistant or secretary or lifecoach. Also, I pull of the hot-secretary look very well.
Also, yes, I live with a boy. My parents are understandably upset and have yet to meet him. He is straight-edge though, and that is something I had to explain to them, and after understanding that he does not drink alcohol they approved, sort of. Still, what are they supposed to tell people!? Nothing, because it isn't anyone's business. And by anyone, I mean everyone at their church that I can't stand - i.e. a lot of stay-at-home-moms who talk too much. HI, CHURCHLADIES!
My apartment will hopefully be done with all the rearranging and storing of excess things in the attic by the end of this week. I hope.