In Which I Complain A Lot And Am Not Funny

And Also Capitalize Every Word In The Title Because I Keep Forgetting The Very Complex Capitalization Rules (Like Seriously, I Used To Think Anything 3 Letters Or Less Was Lower Case, Right?  But Dude, You’re Supposed To Capitalize All “Subordinate Conjunctions” But Not “Coordinate Conjunctions” And I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THOSE THINGS ARE.)

Anyhoo.

Ugh. I’ve been super crankalicious all week, y’all, and it seems to have gotten significantly worse today.  I can’t get out of this mood.  I don’t know how.

At times like this, I want to come crawling back to the comfort of all my old internet hideouts.  To remember that some things don’t change or go away.  But everything changes, and everything goes away, and trying to turn myself back into the person I no longer even want to be is super dumb.  I want to be beyond that phase.  It’s just the transition that’s a pain in the ass.

I’m still trying to move to West Seattle, and all I want is for these fuckers to send me a LEASE so I can SIGN IT and GIVE THEM MORE MONEY, and they won’t do it.  I’ve been waiting two weeks, and they’re all, “Oh, if you don’t get it by Thursday, call me again!”  And guess what?  It’s Thursday, and I called, and she never called back.

A week before I’m supposed to move out (to an apartment I haven’t even signed for yet), I discovered I have fleas in my current place.

I scheduled a coffee date with a girl I met in West Seattle.  She stopped responding to my texts.

I don’t have a father anymore.

I know there’s got to be a break in the monotony, but Jesus, when it rains, how it pours.

Fuck you, Ok Go. Pop rock lyrics shouldn’t be poignant, ever.

Overall, I’m doing fine.  Hell, I’ve been happier lately than ever before.  I was so excited to get this apartment.  I’m so excited to move in.  I’m like 99% sure the landlord’s just being flaky, and not jacking the apartment out from under me after I’ve already given her a deposit.  (If I suspected as much, I would be in more of a Bruce Banner kind of rage instead of a “waaah I’m going to write about my feelings” kind.)  I’m happy to finally build a home, instead of just avoid the box I’m forced to sleep in.

I’m happy to be writing in a semi-constructive fashion again.  It feels good to remember that I’m capable of having passions, even if it takes everything I have to dig them out of my skull.

Hell, I’ve even reached a point in life where I don’t hate my own face.  That’s a huge accomplishment.

But even with all this amazing stuff happening…  This week can suck my dick.  I’m tired of being angry about things I can’t change.  All of this is out of my hands right now, and I fucking hate knowing I have to sit around and wait for other people to do what they’re supposed to do.  I’m used to my problems being 100% self-inflicted, so to suddenly be at the mercy of other people is stressful and terrifying.  I haven’t placed myself in this position for a long time.

This slow, creeping disappointment is new to me.  I started out with no doubt that people will come through.  I just never expected any other outcome.  Then a few days passed, and that certainty turned to mostly certainty.  More time passed and that mostly-certainty started to feel like false hope, and then more and more time passed and I woke up today and realized that all the hope ran out, and I no longer expect anything at all.  Or I guess I just began to expect nothing, which is so much worse, and YEAH GUYS I’M TOTALLY TALKING ABOUT A LEASE RIGHT NOW.  What of it?  Paperwork is really important to me.  I’m super passionate about it.

I’m just all, gurrrrr, arrrgh.  That’s all.  And I’m tired of being all gurrr, arrrgh.  Especially since there’s no direct, quantifiable reason I can easily change.  I’m just.  Pissed, and pissy, and I’m being confrontational with everyone and I want to slap myself for it but that would only make me angrier and then I might throw things and NO ONE NEEDS THAT.

 

 

I wish liquor stores delivered.