Not to sound dramatic, but this is how my life has been this past week:
I can deal with the $60 ticket I got while parked at the Metro for having an expired registration. I can deal with two (false) compulsory INS violations that were blocking my renewed registration. I can deal with the red light camera ticket that is making its way to my mailbox. I can deal with the Chipotle mafia at my office that consistently dominates the free lunch Friday vote at work, despite the well known fact that Chipotle does mean things to my insides (I’m nice enough to at least go to the gas station when my intestines go into freak mode). But did I have to go and drop my favorite part of the banana on the floor?
Let’s take a step back. I moved this month. And our condo association has some bullshit rule where you can’t move in on weekends or holidays, so my plans to have my family come in from out of town on Saturday to help me move were quickly overturned. Monica and I put up some desperate signs around the warehouse at work before my boss agreed to let everyone come into work late that Friday so they could lend a hand. We got the entire 17 foot Budget Truck unloaded in an hour, and I was almost sad to return it. Who would have thought someone used to driving a chicken nugget car could master a 17 foot Budget Truck so quickly? I didn’t choose the truck life; the truck life chose me.
I’m really loving my new apartment so far. It feels so much more charismatic but also grown up than my previous apartments. We’ve actually taken to decorating it and making it look nice, instead of just using it as a place to store our belongings, as I’ve treated other apartments in the past. Monica and I even went and bought some paintings on our lunch break like classy bitches. I’ve definitely been cheating on fashion with furniture, and my latest trip to Ikea has resulted in a 2/3 of the way built dresser that is pretty much the bane of my existence–not to be confused with the the bane cat of my existence (“I was bOrn in the darkness.”)
Of course now’s about the time for a low note. I didn’t see the point in bringing the chinchilla cage with me when I moved–mostly because I don’t see myself ready to get another pet any time soon. I still have some pretty upsetting nightmares, the most recent one involving me going back to my old apartment for a few things I forgot, only to realize that I’d forgotten the chinchilla. There he was running around my room, healthy as can be, and so happy to see me. “I can’t believe I forgot you,” I said as I scratched under his chin. And then there was the dream where I kept his body in the cage even after he passed, and I shook it really hard one day and he woke up. Oh you guys, he still has such a grip on my heart.
Alright. Let me dig myself out of my pity hole to tell you what else is new.
I went to a wedding recently and went home with the best man. I guess I should tell you the best man was my boyfriend.
I’ve listened to Hozier’s “Take Me to Church” so many times that I’ve turned into a gay man. It’s seriously such a powerful and amazing song.
I don’t know if you caught it or not, but I made an appearance on the Kimye wedding episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians:
There’s a farmer’s market right across the street from my apartment every Saturday. I am pretty much in heaven, because there’s a stand that sells homemade pickles.
The crew and I went to 9:30 club last night to see Vance Joy. When I woke up this morning, McDonalds breakfast was a necessity, not an option, and I found a dead bug in my hair. Hopefully that’s a pretty good representation of the kind of night I had.