(no subject)
So, come 2/10/05, I will be the proud renter of a 1/1 apartment down south. This should come as a big surprise to the people who know me the closest as the happiest girl on earth living in her cushy house in East Austin. To update, the owner will be putting the house on the market in March, which left me frantically looking for a new humble abode. It's been a while since I lived on my own, so it will be a new adventure in a chapter of my life. The search was a wonderful and exciting trip in and of itself.
I think I managed to find myself tragically in love with my apartment locator. In two days...that's a record for me. It usually takes a week.
We had a good time. A usually traumatic yearly visit with an apartment locator turned into the most fun I've had in ages. When I left him Monday evening, we had an awkward moment of silence in the car and we parted ways. He gave me a hug, told me he had fun hanging out with me out with me, and gave me an extra squeeze telling me he was going to miss me. I drove home feeling kinda' sad myself as he headed home...to meet up his girlfriend. Tragically, this is my life.
I'm heavily contemplating forfeiting the lease on my new home just to go on one more tour of aparment hunting. Or maybe not. A quiant little thank you card should do.
Ugh, that sucks a lot of rank ass.
In other news, I'm flat broke. What's new. I had to borrow money from Anabanana for the last time (I hope) to cover the cost of the deposit for my apartment I'm supposed to be super excited about. yay, yippee, blah. Lost love and lack of money tend to steal that kind of thunder.
That sucks even more ass.
It hit a low point last week when I was scrounging around the house for nickels and dimes to pay for a pack of cigarettes. I always told myself that I was never at my lowest until the day I scrounged for change just to buy the cheapest cigarettes they ever sold. Up until this point, no matter how broke, I could always manage a pack of Parliaments that would last me until payday. That fateful evening, my destiny was fulfilled and I was standing at the counter of the Fancy Fryed Chiken gas station asking the cashier to give me the cheapest cigarettes he had...and still ending up a nickel short. He floated me the money from the take a penny, leave a penny jar. I left feeling like the dirtiest, filthiest piece of scum. Shame like no other.
This is a lesson to keep my affairs and expenses in order. Oddly enough, though, it doesn't not lessen my addiction to nicotine. Nicotine, oh sweet nectar of the gods. Not the nice and gilded ones, the haggard chain-smoking and beer guzzling ones.
So now the count goes....broke, loveless, terrible addiction. I'm a class act.
I posted a personal ad on craigslist. I figured if I've hit rock bottom, I might as well seek out others in my field. I've recieved no less than fifteen pictures of penises (or is it penii?) in my inbox. Now that I think of this, I've found a new measurement of rock bottom. I mean, suffering through a pack of Sport lights....I mean, lites seems much more tolerable than going with a bottomfeeder I attracted through a half-assed personal ad. Maybe life isn't so bad after all.
Always looking on the brighter side of life
-the end-