(no subject)
At about midnight, I was feeling bored and energetic so I decided to get outta this apartment. I of course didn't leave until I wrote "I AM LEAVING MY APARTMENT AT 12:12 AM ON OCTOBER 1ST. I SHOULD BE BACK NO LATER THAN 2 AM." Some of you normal people might ask, "Why?!" Well, because I am convinced one day I will be murdered/kidnapped and I want to make it as easy as possible for those looking for me.
Anyway my usual place to go when I just need to go somewhere is Barnes and Noble, but I was pretty sure that wasn't open. It came down to the big question of "Super Wal Mart or Kroger?" Easy choice? You bet.
There were a few other people in Kroger. Two men with work IDs around their necks and an all-over-each-other, older than me(late 30s/early 40s) couple. There were two people working; one as a cashier and the other as an unpack-and-put-on-the-shelfer. I was feelin' pretty motivated so I shopped shopped shopped. One big thing I was there for was garbage bags. And what was the one thing I couldn't find? Yeah, garbage bags. There were no aisles with a sign that said "garbage bags" hangin' around. I thought maybe they would be near the cleaning supplies, so I went up and down that aisle a few times. I was asked twice if I needed any help finding things, but it was my mission to find those damn garbage bags on my own. Turns out they were not called garbage bags or even trash bags in the aisle sign thingy, but "PLASTIC BAGS." Oh well.
I usually only do the self check-out thing because LET'S FACE IT, I do not like talking to people. I guess after/before a certain time those handy things are closed, so to the cashier I went.
"Hi. How are you?"
"Oh... Um, I'm alright. How about you?"
"Great... now that I have a pretty lady to wait on."
"Ohnononono."
Then there was all sorts of talk about my car (I'm telling you, no one would notice me if it weren't for that beautiful beast).
Man, that computer at the self check-out thing has never shamelessly flirted with me! I think it is for the best though the computer would have a better chance with me than that poor man.
I had a fun drive to my apartment, singing my little (honestly, i think it shrunk) heart out to Simon and Garfunkel's "Cecilia."
So here I am, back in my apartment. I threw away a lot of trash and my dishes. I know, I know... "Why throw away dishes?" I can't even explain to you how disgusting those things were, though this might be enough: I had not washed any of those dishes since I moved here and it's been around 3 months. AND when I went to wash them last week, I noticed something... squirmy. A few squirmy somethings, actually. Yes, some kind of larva. On my dishes. I tried killing them with dish soap, but no, they kept squirming. The possibly toxic Spider-man foam soap (its label reads, "WARNING: Wash hands after use.")?? Still squirming! I had to use bugspray! So... if that is not reason enough to throw away dishes, I don't know what is.
YES I REALIZE I AM GROSS AND MESSY AND LAZY.
I had a lot more to write about being a bad person (bad friend, mostly) and super super paranoid, but I think a lot of you know how much I am both those things.
Anyway my usual place to go when I just need to go somewhere is Barnes and Noble, but I was pretty sure that wasn't open. It came down to the big question of "Super Wal Mart or Kroger?" Easy choice? You bet.
There were a few other people in Kroger. Two men with work IDs around their necks and an all-over-each-other, older than me(late 30s/early 40s) couple. There were two people working; one as a cashier and the other as an unpack-and-put-on-the-shelfer. I was feelin' pretty motivated so I shopped shopped shopped. One big thing I was there for was garbage bags. And what was the one thing I couldn't find? Yeah, garbage bags. There were no aisles with a sign that said "garbage bags" hangin' around. I thought maybe they would be near the cleaning supplies, so I went up and down that aisle a few times. I was asked twice if I needed any help finding things, but it was my mission to find those damn garbage bags on my own. Turns out they were not called garbage bags or even trash bags in the aisle sign thingy, but "PLASTIC BAGS." Oh well.
I usually only do the self check-out thing because LET'S FACE IT, I do not like talking to people. I guess after/before a certain time those handy things are closed, so to the cashier I went.
"Hi. How are you?"
"Oh... Um, I'm alright. How about you?"
"Great... now that I have a pretty lady to wait on."
"Ohnononono."
Then there was all sorts of talk about my car (I'm telling you, no one would notice me if it weren't for that beautiful beast).
Man, that computer at the self check-out thing has never shamelessly flirted with me! I think it is for the best though the computer would have a better chance with me than that poor man.
I had a fun drive to my apartment, singing my little (honestly, i think it shrunk) heart out to Simon and Garfunkel's "Cecilia."
So here I am, back in my apartment. I threw away a lot of trash and my dishes. I know, I know... "Why throw away dishes?" I can't even explain to you how disgusting those things were, though this might be enough: I had not washed any of those dishes since I moved here and it's been around 3 months. AND when I went to wash them last week, I noticed something... squirmy. A few squirmy somethings, actually. Yes, some kind of larva. On my dishes. I tried killing them with dish soap, but no, they kept squirming. The possibly toxic Spider-man foam soap (its label reads, "WARNING: Wash hands after use.")?? Still squirming! I had to use bugspray! So... if that is not reason enough to throw away dishes, I don't know what is.
YES I REALIZE I AM GROSS AND MESSY AND LAZY.
I had a lot more to write about being a bad person (bad friend, mostly) and super super paranoid, but I think a lot of you know how much I am both those things.