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| Was today Put A Brain-Damaged Monkey Behind The Wheel Day? Was it? Seriously, there need to be fliers or something so I know when to just pull over and give up. Way to drop the ball, ambiguous and clearly spiteful governing body I just made up.
In other news, I found an apartment. It's smaller than this place and just as expensive. There's no yard, but there is a parking lot. The bedroom's bigger than the living room, but the "kitchen" has a dishwasher, I think. I'll be signing the lease tomorrow and moving in either this weekend or the next. Will I regret it? Maybe. But, really, what don't I regret?
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| Dad took me out to brunch today because, well, pretty much because Mom's out of town and Dad doesn't know how to work the kitchen.
We talked about trains.
For two hours.
It was awesome.
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| You know, my current apartment may very well be trying to kill me... but I'm finding it hard to leave. Apartment hunting in this area is a bitch. The nice places are crazy expensive, and all the places I can afford are either comparatively tiny or just generally shitty. It pains me to say it, but this place is spoiling me. It's convenient (or maybe just comfortable), a great deal for the money, and it hasn't drawn blood in weeks. I don't really want to stay, but maybe I need to rethink that.
Oh, and, for the record, we're up to day 11 on the Roommate's Shit Is Still In My Goddamned Apartment watch.
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| OK. Where the hell did my three day weekend go? It's Sunday afternoon somehow and I'm upset.
Last night, my friend and I went to a Chinese buffet that served frog legs. Frog legs. I have never before in my life seen those offered anywhere and was sorely tempted to try them. However, after talking them up for a bit, I ultimately bitched out. They just didn't look appetizing. They were kinda, like, fried or something, with the bones jutting out in random places. I didn't think frogs even had knees, but, sure enough, they do, 'cause I was staring at 'em for a good five minutes last night while everyone else in the restaurant walked by, wondering what mental facility I escaped from.
Former roommate's crap is neatly piled by the door, and less neatly in the hallway, but she has yet to come claim it. I don't know that she's going to. If I thought I could make any kind of money off it, I'd probably start selling it, but most of it is pretty worthless. I'll probably just throw it out eventually, although, if any of it looks as though it might detonate upon impact with a golf club, I may hang on to it for a bit. And then go borrow my brother's golf clubs.
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| Man, fuck the Stop & Shop. Someone needs to burn that motherfucker to the ground. | | |
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