Every part of my body is tied in to the other part. When I get tired, I get really bad headaches. When I'm off my meds, I want to tear peoples' heads off. Right now, I'm trying to find an apartment, and my tummy has the makings of some killer diarrhea. Like you wanted to know that, but meh.
Everyone I've called so far has told me that since my lease is up July 23rd, to wait until the middle of June to start calling around, to see what's available. You know, I'm not incredibly good at this when it comes down to the wire.
I'm definitely going to find a place closer to work, somewhere in the Southside/Highlands area. I'm hoping to somehow luckily stumble across one of those older houses that have been made into apartments. Most of the ones that I've seen have been outrageous - but of course, those are the kind I'm looking for. I need something under $500, with W/D connections. What I WANT is a totally different story. But if I can have this place until I can get my money under wraps, I think I'll be cool.
That's probably what I'm going to end up doing while I'm laid up, recouping. Or I could just post on Craig's List - "Chick with broke leg seeks cheap apartment - hardwoods optional."
Orrrrr not. That sounds like some sick fetish ad or something.
OMFGBLAH! My body seems like it's trying SO hard to get me worked up into a frenzy, but I'm fighting it. It's that kind of impending panic attack I can see drifting towards me, like a rain cloud on the horizon. At least I get paid this week, which might get me out of the hole enough to pay rent. As far as I'm concerned, the fact that I'm eating mac-n-cheese every night is like living the high life. Course, I did drink someone's rank milk at work today, because my milk had not yet thawed and I have no money.
Just so you know, I'm never looking for handouts. This is just one of the few activities I do enjoy - chronicling my blundering and maladroit transition into real adulthood. I hope to look back on it one day and be able to laugh. For some reason, though, I'm doubting I'll ever have the opportunity to do any laughing at my own misfortune.
It's ok, though. I have up days and down days. This day is sorta like, "I'd rather be running through the halls carrying a severed head." There's nothing to do, so that makes me crazy. Chris isn't here, so other people are in charge and THAT usually entitles people to literally talk too much, and THAT makes me crazy. Also, I've changed to taking my meds at night instead of in the morning, so I'm wondering if that was a wise choice at this juncture. Ah, I don't really care. Right now.
If I can just manage to stave off this effing panic attack till the end of the day, I can go crazy-go-nuts. I'm also having some, eh, dilemmas within my own mind. Some possibly life-altering decisions that I can't quite get help on. (and NO, I'm not going to have gender reassignment surgery...sickos.) I'm just having that whole 'I can't stop effing my life up' thing. *phew* I can't think about that right now. I'm too keyed up as it is with this apartment business. But, I'll just do what I have to do - start calling mid-June. If I get something, I get it - if I don't, I'll, um, live at the hospital.
Hey, at least I'll never be late for work. "Yeah, I was here on time...I was just in the shower."