Cyclothymia

So At A Knock I Emptied My Cage

It's taken a mere 6 months, but I think I'm finally happy in my apartment. Until now it's been a bit of a love-hate relationship, with the occasional night out together ruined by alcohol fueled character bashing, followed by drunken make-up sex. Mmm, yeah, picture THAT internets. Last year I saw that guy who was arrested for having sex with a bicycle, and I totally judged him, but that was before this apartment. Now I know better, he was just getting settled in with a new bike.

You see, I was happy from day one that I elected to get a place by myself. I consistently think to myself several times a week..."ah, ain't nobody here but me." And then I continue eating my ice cream and watching TV naked. I'm not sure what that says about me...probably that I hate people, and that my dream is to be eaten by my cats when I die alone so that we can finally become one complete body and soul. I'm exaggerating of course, I don't eat ice cream several times per week, but I do wander around naked ALL THE DAMN TIME. Just ask the cats. They won't admit it at first, because they're understandably creeped out, but they'll fess up eventually.

The catch, of course, was that I'd either have to live outside the city (ew at this stage of life), or get a really small place. And my place? It's not just a shrew's tit, it's a pre-pubescent shrew's tit. Something that only a pedophilic shrew could love, especially because I have a ton of shit and clutter makes me unhappy. Imagine taking a 2 bedroom apartment, cutting the stuff in half, and then stuffing all that in one room. I was like a crazy lady hiding under stacks of newspapers and cat litter, only occasionally emerging to go carry my end of times placard. The situation was weighing on me.

So, this past weekend I prioritized home-making and decluttering. Painful as it was, I did find some interesting things. Like, a 2 year old check for over a $100, uncashed. Doh. Like the title for my motorcycle. Yay! Extended raping by the Mass RMV bureaucracy avoided! Like a totally kick-ass tuxedo halter top. Yeah, you read that right, I'm basically Jennifer Beals. I also spent about 3 years painstakingly painting my shelves in a nice duo-tone color scheme. Who knew poop brown looks so good lining shelves? Inmates with a flair for decorating, take notice - it's a warm, inviting look, however you will need at least 2 coats + touch-ups depending on your base, so save up.

A friend came over to hang out on Sunday and I was all like, hey, you're a person, with hands, thus you are well-suited to helping me switch litter boxes! She was like, AWESOME, I SHOULD COME OVER MORE OFTEN. And then we did it. So now I have a comparatively tiny litter box that takes up less than a 1/3 of the kitchen, and since it's covered and filled with "The World's Best Cat Litter", the stench and dust is drastically reduced. I'll miss that fine coating of clay dust everywhere, but I guess I'll just have to adapt. I'm trying to resist calculating the cost per crap of this litter though, because it ain't cheap.

I would go out on a limb at this point and say that the apartment is perhaps even approaching "cute", or at least "homey". I have one big *cough* area of wall that I need to figure out what to do with, and I have yet more decluttering to do, but I'm, like, totally stoked at the progress. I'd even have a boy over now.

No Thanks, Send It Back

Pogo spent the night outside last night. The cat is obsessed with getting outside, despite the fact that he has NO SURVIVAL SKILLS and is SCARED OF EVERYTHING. Nevertheless, he clearly sees every open door as an opportunity to escape the brutal regime he's being forced to endure inside my warm, dry, food-filled house. I try not to take it personally, but last night I'd had enough, so I chucked him out the window, yelled some epithets at him, and locked up for the night. Or maybe I forgot the big window doesn't have a screen.

Why was the window open in February you ask? Because my shrew's tit of an apartment has two temperatures: boiling or freezing. The colder it is, the LESS LIKELY THE HEAT IS TO COME ON. I'm not shitting you. I have radiators that apparently are controlled by the building thermostat, which is ridiculous in a building with 30 units, and I'm getting screwed by it. Actually, I'm more worried about my aquarium, I'm pretty sure my fish aren't down with 90 degree water, although they haven't verbalized it BY DYING yet.

I know I'm USING A LOT OF CAPS TODAY, and if you're interpreting that as yelling, GO RIGHT AHEAD, because THAT'S WHAT I'M DOING. Aside from hunting for Pogo at 6am, and then crawling out the wet, thorn-covered window to retrieve him, this day can go suck itself because:

1) On the walk to work I walked straight into a low hanging branch covered in yet more thorns (wtf is up with the thorns everywhere today? Am I missing some metaphorical message the universe needs to get across to me?)*, which caught on my hood and ripped the gortex. The hood of my coat has a visor, which is awesome since it really keeps rain and snow out (or at least it did before I WALKED INTO THE DAMN BRANCH), but it limits the overhead visibility, especially when I'm walking hunkered down staring at the sidewalk in a puddle of self-pity and world-loathing. Thankfully I bet the 5 people around me and the nasty little tree were cheered up by my misfortune.

2) I'm the only one in the office today and I don't have much to do. I should have stayed home.

Note to self: do not drink a lot of sake and get to bed @ 1am on a Monday night, it makes you a bitter girl. Absolutely kick-ass date** though, so I've got that to cuddle with in my misery.

*Can someone with some rudimentary skillz in punctuation please tell me how the hell that sentence should have been handled?

** This "date" thing is new to me. The ex did not take me on dates, except for maybe valentines or my birthday. That should have been yet another clue that I was wasting four years of my life.