(no subject)
I need me some fucking baby oil for this Canadian Flag tattoo!
All in all, I have spent the entire day (post work) CLEANING the fuck out of my room. Vacuuming basically everything in sight, dusting, Windexing. I'll admit to being a mild pack-rat, but there is nothing more therapeutic than shoving junk in the garbage and not looking back. I more or less move out all my shit tomorrow from my parents house, and things are already looking more awesome; relationship-wise and I dunno, freedom-wise? Save for the fact that I am in the minuses in my bank account. I am SO ready to be outta here.
I went to look at the place this afternoon right after work. Boy, is this place a fixer upper. It legitemately looks like someone tried cleaning the windows (who are overlooking the Convention Center) with Pepsi. I swear to god, they have my parents old fridge in there from the early nineties, the tub molding is badly water damaged and there are large bad scuffs on the hardwood (living room only). At least it's big enough to hold my bike in. Other than that, I can treat it as my own little "Home Renovation TV Reality Show". That, or it really should be taken care of by the Agency. I'm thinking the latter.
On a rather pathetic note: Since when has Canada Day become a fucking dating service. Just wondering if anyone else noticed the creepy vibe of the Osbourne Street Festival.
Speaking of Canada Day, is it me, or does it seem really fucking lame this year. Probably me. Can you blame me? My mind isn't really on fucking earth with the rest of the drunken/crazy/fireworks/shenanigans happening around me. I'm stoked on life right now, I just want to move in, and cuddle in my Queen size Leopard print fleece comforter. And wait for Damien to come home. And scrub the shit out of those windows. And mop the floors. And...
And on a higher note: Everybody order from Porno Pizza!!
All in all, I have spent the entire day (post work) CLEANING the fuck out of my room. Vacuuming basically everything in sight, dusting, Windexing. I'll admit to being a mild pack-rat, but there is nothing more therapeutic than shoving junk in the garbage and not looking back. I more or less move out all my shit tomorrow from my parents house, and things are already looking more awesome; relationship-wise and I dunno, freedom-wise? Save for the fact that I am in the minuses in my bank account. I am SO ready to be outta here.
I went to look at the place this afternoon right after work. Boy, is this place a fixer upper. It legitemately looks like someone tried cleaning the windows (who are overlooking the Convention Center) with Pepsi. I swear to god, they have my parents old fridge in there from the early nineties, the tub molding is badly water damaged and there are large bad scuffs on the hardwood (living room only). At least it's big enough to hold my bike in. Other than that, I can treat it as my own little "Home Renovation TV Reality Show". That, or it really should be taken care of by the Agency. I'm thinking the latter.
On a rather pathetic note: Since when has Canada Day become a fucking dating service. Just wondering if anyone else noticed the creepy vibe of the Osbourne Street Festival.
Speaking of Canada Day, is it me, or does it seem really fucking lame this year. Probably me. Can you blame me? My mind isn't really on fucking earth with the rest of the drunken/crazy/fireworks/shenanigans happening around me. I'm stoked on life right now, I just want to move in, and cuddle in my Queen size Leopard print fleece comforter. And wait for Damien to come home. And scrub the shit out of those windows. And mop the floors. And...
And on a higher note: Everybody order from Porno Pizza!!