::Groan::
Good morning, world!
Kill me!
So today is an 11 hour shift. Why? Because I lacked the foresight to not tell my boss that in being late for work on Friday due to signing and finalizing my lease (which is now done, by the way), that I would make up whatever time I missed. I was only supposed to be an hour late, but the end result, after Eric missed his train (oops) and then we discovered that the Green Line on the commuter rail was out of commission, was that I showed up at work a whopping three hours and forty-five minutes late. Although granted, I was only about 2 hours late after we finished signing the lease. At that point, I declared a hearty "Fuck it!" and we had dinner and then went to check out the apartment (it's really nice inside, but looks like a crack den outside, it's a perfect combination for happy living with minimal break-ins). So I am working as long as this wretched building is open today, which is fantastic, seeing as I have yet to start packing and I move tomorrow (holy shit). Which reminds me, I am still sans-method of moving furniture, though Lina *might* be able to help on Monday once she's home from GA, if her folks let her use the van. I'm gonna offer them my car while we use the van if necessary, because it's kind of crucial that I be able to have furniture.
I really don't forsee packing as that big of an issue. Just washing stuff and throwing it in boxes. It's not quite the same as college when I didn't have a means to get home and I lived more than a half hour away. So I'm not concerned. This of course, did spurn a massive argument with my mother. I swear she's getting bitchier as it's closer to me moving. Just like every other time. She bitches because I haven't packed yet, she's bitching because *I'm* a jerk because my brother feels bad about not being able to help me move. Lemme run the circumstances of that little fiasco down:
When I found out I was moving, a month ago, almost, I asked my mother to talk to my brother to see if he can help me move my furniture. They both came to the decision that he should not make time to help me until I had physically contacted him first. So he's known I've needed help on June 1st for the entire month. But because I didn't tell him myself, he made plans. Yes, it's my responsibility to ask him, and I'm not mad that he's not doing it because of that, I'm mad that he knew exactly when I needed him and chose to make plans for that time period to "teach me a lesson." It's infantile. And my mother's yelling at me because he feels guilty about it. You can't really feel guilty about not being available for me asking last minute. You could, feasibly, feel guilty for deliberately trying to inconvenience someone. I'm just not in the mood for the bullshit, because this is the entire basis of my relationship with my brother. He makes no effort to talk to me, but if I return the favor, he whines to my mom that I don't talk to him and oh how he wishes I would, therefore branding me as the asshole. I just don't care enough, I expressed that I wanted to hang out with him in the past, he hasn't acted on it. So c'est la vie.
In other news, I got a sore throat a few days ago, which has degenerated into a lovely case of Uvulitis. For those who don't know what that is or have not had the joy of it, it's when the dangly thing in the back of your throat swells up. For me, it usually winds up getting a litte longer, just enough to make it feel like I perpetually have a loogie dangling in the back of my throat, which makes me reflexively try to swallow, which proceeds to hurt like hell. So I'm not happy phone service representative today.
I wouldn't say I have pre-moving jitters so much as an ominous feeling clawing at my stomach. My brain's making me wonder how long till I turn this living situation into the same thing as all that others and Eric starts to hate me and eventually, it destroys our friendship. I haven't been sleeping at night because I think of ways to make myself as nonexistent as possible to delay what, in my head, is the inevitable.
But enough rambling, i should probably attempt to work, for at least a little while.