The dudebro brah the 3rd esquire
Finally getting adjusted to new living situation, also writing this I'm having to adjust to not writing like I do when putting time tickets into our system at work where my goal is to sound as robotic as possible (I have to edit myself when saying something like "the server was fubar so i said fuck it and threw pencils at the ceiling for an hour").
Thanks to the Flood 2k9 our newly landscaped yard is a mud pit, it took me 15 minutes to roll the trashcans 10 feet to the street and then wash my boots of NC's own horrible red clay that can kiss my ass.
Two roommates are ghosts right now, working what I assume are between 60 and 80 hour weeks, I think Laura might actually be going bald from stress.
I'm sleeping just on my mattress after going primitive on my old box spring. I thought I might get stressed being in the smallest room but then I realized I had my own floor at the last house and did nothing but keep inordinate amounts of garbage up there for lack of any reason not to fill empty space with literal crap.
I really like vitamin water, it makes me feel good that I'm getting vitamins mixed in with my diet of party pizzas and egg-in-holes.
There's so much I want to do here. New couches, real blinds to replace the paper stick-up blinds our landlords did us the service of installing. Stuff on the walls, a dining room table and chairs. But this house is stupid nice for people like us and I'm lucky to be somewhere I feel like being a woman about. I got denied when applying for an Ikea credit card, which is probably a good thing.
I feel restless though, sometimes I think it must be what my dad feels like, why he never stops just doing. Doing something, building something, trimming something, painting something. I see a lot of my personality as coming from my mom and wonder what part of me is like him. And then I realize that I feel the best when I have the least to worry about and that's him 100 percent.
Thanks to the Flood 2k9 our newly landscaped yard is a mud pit, it took me 15 minutes to roll the trashcans 10 feet to the street and then wash my boots of NC's own horrible red clay that can kiss my ass.
Two roommates are ghosts right now, working what I assume are between 60 and 80 hour weeks, I think Laura might actually be going bald from stress.
I'm sleeping just on my mattress after going primitive on my old box spring. I thought I might get stressed being in the smallest room but then I realized I had my own floor at the last house and did nothing but keep inordinate amounts of garbage up there for lack of any reason not to fill empty space with literal crap.
I really like vitamin water, it makes me feel good that I'm getting vitamins mixed in with my diet of party pizzas and egg-in-holes.
There's so much I want to do here. New couches, real blinds to replace the paper stick-up blinds our landlords did us the service of installing. Stuff on the walls, a dining room table and chairs. But this house is stupid nice for people like us and I'm lucky to be somewhere I feel like being a woman about. I got denied when applying for an Ikea credit card, which is probably a good thing.
I feel restless though, sometimes I think it must be what my dad feels like, why he never stops just doing. Doing something, building something, trimming something, painting something. I see a lot of my personality as coming from my mom and wonder what part of me is like him. And then I realize that I feel the best when I have the least to worry about and that's him 100 percent.