Just another manic Meegday

FYI - The Follow the Fear post was made in reference to me succeeding in crossing off the numero uno scary thing on my list of things I wanted to do but was too scared. Its very liberating. Del was a wise man. "Follow the fear" and "never be afraid to look like an idiot." -Dan Bakkedahl

But enough about that...

So I moved most of my stuff over to Z's last night. I'm staying there this week for several reasons: my new apartment isn't ready, Z is out of town (as you may recall he went home without me), he has a king-size bed and I have an airmattress - you do the math, and besides that my roomate at my old apartment asked if her parents could sleep in my room when they come visit this week. This way I get out on a high note, and I get out of cleaning the bathroom... or so I thought!

So it was basically my first night in a new apartment. I was so exhausted from getting my stuff over to the apartment and up four flights of stairs by myself that I went straight to sleep, not caring where anything was or what I was to wear to my interview at 11am the next day.

I got woken up by the sudden jump in room temperature from a comfy 68 degrees or so to friggin 100 or more. I felt like an ant under a microscope. I don't know if Z is too cheap or too much of a boy to invest in curtains, but if I'm staying there until Saturday, something's gotta be done about that. And don't get me started on the bathroom... oi... For those of you who question Z's orientation, ladies and gentlemen of the jury I give you exhibit A...hard evidence... No gay man could survive under these conditions. Case closed.

So I foraged through the remnants of groceries I brought from the old place and tried to make ramen in the microwave. The glass turntable thingy was missing so I set the bowl of water and noodles in between the rotating arms in the base of the microwave, thinking the bowl was heavy enough to fend for itself.

So I was wrong. The microwave made an awful noise and before I could find the stop button I heard a loud clunk. By the time I managed to get the door open there was a pool of water and bits of ramen all in and under the microwave. sigh.

Now you might say...eh...just leave it. And I might say the same...except that Z has three female roomates who I hadn't met yet and the rest of the apartment is relatively clean so I didnt want to make a first impression with a slowly evaporating puddle of crusty ramen noodles. It took a while to sop that up, and as I finished I heard my phone buzzing so I looked and it said "Interview 10:15" Wha? Crapface! Ratfarts! shit!

Since it was about 9:30 and I knew El Train would take at least a half hour I shifted into high gear and took the quickest shower ever (ew, not a problem). "Where the hell is everything?!?!?" My clothes were in various states of cleanliness in my two suitcases, and hell if I know what I did with my makeup! Around 9:50 I double checked my calendar and I had written really tiny "(10:30)" oh I'm so smart and sneaky! I have an extra 15 minutes! So I finally get it together, strap on my backpack, pause in front of the mirror for a final check and CRAPFACE! RATFARTS! SHIT! there is a huge stain, front and center on my shirt! What the hell am I going to wear?!?! I managed to uncover the wrinkliest yet cleanest shirt, and resigned myself to splurging on a cab.

So I got to my interview just barely on time and looked down at my shirt to find a few little black spots where there had been none before. crapface! ratfarts! shi..eh I didn't really want to work at Starbucks. To a lesser extent, some of my older friends might compare me working at Starbucks to my friend GD joining the marines. Would you sell your adolescent principles for some health insurance?

So after a less than exciting interview I headed over to the Salvation Army to find some damn curtains or reasonable curtain imitations. Then I spent the next 2 hours doing laundry for myself and girlifying Z's domain. Soap scum be gone! Don't worry, I didn't do anything drastic, I'm definitely taking the awesome curtains I made with me when I go to my real apartment on Saturday. I swear the pink potpouri was there when I got there. (Your Honor, I move that the last statement be stricken from the record!)

So I got my clothes out of the dryer just in time to speed racer cycle past the Cubs traffic to get to work at precisely 3:30. There was a customer waiting outside already! oi.

So here I am. Working at a gym has it's perks, but I'm not feeling very perky at the moment. I want my next job to have a naptime.