Remember how last week I was number 8 on the stupid waiting list for a fucking apartment? Now, I'm number 7 on the stupid waiting list for a fucking apartment. And the fucking waiting list for the fucking apartment fucking ends today!!!! Ergo: SET DON'T GOT NO FUCKING PLACE TO LIVE FOR HIS LAST FUCKING SEMESTER OF FUCKING COLLEGE!!!! Now, I have to look for a fucking roommate or fucking roommates and deal with not living somewhere that is quiet and that I love. Plus, lets be honest, where I lived was PERFECT for me. Everything was protected, it was damn near impossible to break into the room because of the fact that the doors were all nice and fancy and had those cool locks that they have. So, now, I can take all my shit (and I have a lot of shit...) to my place, and have some idiot break in, or have roommates who I DON'T FUCKING KNOW decide that they want to swipe my shit. And so now I'm looking at ads in the Chico paper, and people are like 'roommate must be friendly,' so I'm out of that one.
Great way to start the last fucking day I have working, isn't it?
I 'decided' that I wanted a studio apartment, so I wouldn't have to deal with the roommates. In theory, this is a good idea, yes? Yes. In theory. In actuality, it means paying about twice as much, not to mention utilities and all that good shit. And by 'good shit' I mean not so good shit. What about my TiVo? Can I hook it up and depend on other people not to screw with it? People I don't know? And the phone line? SON OF A BITCH THIS IS GOING TO SUCK!!!! I think I do need a studio, because it is the only way I can be sure of my own personal comfort... ugh. Everything was going to work out fine if I lived at the place I was supposed to live at. But look, I stopped swearing... as much.
EDIT: I'm back to thinking roommates are the way. The reason why? Because I'm sure they'll at least have a couch in the living room, and I know that apartments like that tend to have cubbies or whatever so you can put your clothes, and a table in the kitchen. I mean, seriously, if I got a studio apartment, I would have to buy a bunch of stuff. The list so far that I know of would include: Dresser for my clothes, couch for the room, bed for the room, desk for my computer, chair for my computer desk, something to put my tv and all my games and stuff on, table for the kitchen (maybe), chairs for the kitchen table (more than certain, or if I had one of those little things that are like the bars, I would still need stools for those...) and so on and so forth. I just do not want to deal with that shit right now. Ugh, looks like I'll be getting some more grey hair because of this. Or, I could just decide to skip it all and drop out. Yeah, that could work... hell no!
Seriously... in addition to the day basically coming down to nothing but SHEER SHIT because of my fucking (there's that word again) housing thing, it was also the last day I worked. So many people were sad to see me go. It made me sad to leave. I love the people I work with. Seriously, I LOVE the people I work with. They're so great. Even Blaine said he was sad. I hate making Blaine sad. Precious Blaine.
Meanwhile, Juana, one of my now ex-coworkers, was attempting to set me up on a blind date with her daughter. Everyone is telling me to go for it, but I'm like 'I have 4 days left before I leave for school, dammit, even if we had something, it would go away.' And, I wouldn't want my first ACTUAL date to be a blind date, set up by my aunt and coworker, no less. Woman's already planning the wedding and everything.
Plus, everyone's under the assumption that I'm going to be coming back there. I mean, don't get me wrong, as I've said, I love my coworkers, or former coworkers, to death and I think they're great people, but that isn't a career that I want. Especially if I keep on only working at 10 bucks an hour. I didn't get a damned degree just to work for 10 dollars an hour. I need more than that. I said I probably wouldn't, but I never said that I would not. I also said I would try and visit around the holidays, just to make an appearance.
It was funny, Lauren, not a coworker, but a child of a coworker who also kind of works for low pay, making my job the center of the new empire of Kathy Lee... anyway, someone, actually I think it was my boss, said that I don't love my mom. And she was all 'you don't love your mom?!?!' I, of course, couldn't say 'no, I do love my mom,' because that would be a lie, so I made up some story about how she left me in a ditch when I was 12 to go and gamble. For a second, she believed me.
Now my parents' are gone, again, which sucks because I want to talk to my dad about the housing thing. Can't do it today, he won't be around. Can't do it tomorrow, because we're going to that stupid ass party that I don't want to go to. Can do it on Sunday. Probably will. Now where's that flyswater, I want to take out my frustrations on the helpless bugs. BOW TO MY POWER!!!
Listening to Ballads right now is probably not a good idea. Does that stop me? No, no it does not.