A Delightful Concerto in the Key of Wah
This really sucks.
I'm in an apartment with 4 good friends, I've got a car, and I've got a job. Yippee.
Then why am I positively dreading the coming days? It could possibly be that:
1. I'm living paycheck to paycheck like some Home Shopping Network addicted middle-aged ninny.
2. I've gotten into a car accident and subsequently got three, count them, THREE tickets.
3. My hours at work are getting cut back.
4. I'm going to be spending two weeks surrounded by skinny dancer-types. *cue tragic, weight-inspired rant that I don't have the time or patience to actually type here*
5. My apartment, while filled with lovely people and cool things, is decrepit and I hate it. Things are broken, falling off, clogged, and sinking, and we haven't even been living there a month. Not to mention that it's filthy, stained, and the damn managers won't do anything about it.
Now that I've made myself sick with self-pitty, I'm going to make a plan. After all, it's not as if all of the shit that's going wrong will last forever. I'll use my spare time to get a few nifty sewing things done and hit the gym. One of the tickets I got will be challenged in court, and another will go away when I go home to retrieve my current insurance card. So things aren't that bad. The apartment still gives me the willies and I'm almost certain that a body has been hidden in my closet wall at some point, but there's not much I can do about that except move out next year. As far as money goes, things will be a lot less tight when I get my refund check at the end of August.
So everything will be fine.
Dandy.
Nifty.
... Right?
I'm in an apartment with 4 good friends, I've got a car, and I've got a job. Yippee.
Then why am I positively dreading the coming days? It could possibly be that:
1. I'm living paycheck to paycheck like some Home Shopping Network addicted middle-aged ninny.
2. I've gotten into a car accident and subsequently got three, count them, THREE tickets.
3. My hours at work are getting cut back.
4. I'm going to be spending two weeks surrounded by skinny dancer-types. *cue tragic, weight-inspired rant that I don't have the time or patience to actually type here*
5. My apartment, while filled with lovely people and cool things, is decrepit and I hate it. Things are broken, falling off, clogged, and sinking, and we haven't even been living there a month. Not to mention that it's filthy, stained, and the damn managers won't do anything about it.
Now that I've made myself sick with self-pitty, I'm going to make a plan. After all, it's not as if all of the shit that's going wrong will last forever. I'll use my spare time to get a few nifty sewing things done and hit the gym. One of the tickets I got will be challenged in court, and another will go away when I go home to retrieve my current insurance card. So things aren't that bad. The apartment still gives me the willies and I'm almost certain that a body has been hidden in my closet wall at some point, but there's not much I can do about that except move out next year. As far as money goes, things will be a lot less tight when I get my refund check at the end of August.
So everything will be fine.
Dandy.
Nifty.
... Right?