Push

First it was, “I’m leaving on the 29th. I’ll stay and help you move and then go and you can have the rest of the week off in your new place.”

Great. Wonderful. Perfect.

Then I get a call. “Actually, I think I’ll work a week longer, and leave on the 31st.” The 31st is friday. The 29th is wednesday. Wednesday is a better day for him to leave than friday is, because it is sooner. But whatever. “I can help you clean the old place and get settled into the new place.” Er. Okay. Sure. I agree, because this is the last time I’ll be seeing him.

So today he comes home. “Do you have guest parking at your new place?”

“No.”

“Street parking?”

“Not really.”

“Because I was thinking I’d stay a few days longer.”

Oh. You see I don’t need for this to drag out longer that it already has. I’ve already had my life stuck in neutral for far too long. This has to end. He has to face it. He’s coming up with excuse after excuse to stay longer.

“There’s a game Sunday night. Some of the guys from work wanted to go.” Sure. A game. There are games all the time here. Aside from the two baseball games we went to, he hasn’t been to any others. Guys from work. Yeah, the ones you don’t go out with. At all?

Needless to say, I’m rather irritated by this.

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Take a Bottle, Drink it Down

I’ve been out of school for about six years now. Six years of loafing around and frittering my life away. Of course I don’t really believe that, but most of the time, when I sit back and think about all this time that has escaped, that’s the first thing that comes to mind. Frittering. Tonight I took my first test. It wasn’t bad, although there’s still one problem that I’ve yet to come up with a satisfying answer for. I have to turn it in by 830 tomorrow morning, so I’m letting my mind work it out for the time being, hoping that soon enough a good answer will occur to me. A better one than what I’ve written down, at least.

Tomorrow is the day. No, not THE day. That won’t happen for another couple of weeks. If all goes as planned, 10/31 should be THE day. Tomorrow is the day I decide on an apartment. Honestly I’m not doing a very good job of hunting. So far there’s only one place that has everything I think I need. For some reason, it’s pretty hard to find a 1BR apt that comes with parking AND a washer/dryer IN the unit. And allows cats. And has a fireplace (yeah, that one’s not really on the list, it’s just something I’d like.) I’m not down with “laundry facilities on premises.” No fucking way. And then there’s the internet problem. My current provider somehow roped me into a yr-long contract. I guess I was dense when I signed up (less than a year ago) and didn’t stop to consider the fact that I may be moving. At that time, I was still convinced that the whole crappy relationship thing would still be going on. I thought I’d be in this apartment for at least another year.

But no. Not another year. So I have a couple of choices – transfer the service to my new address, provided it’s within the service area, or pay an insanely high fee. Of course, being the wise consumer that I am, I checked on the service area. The ISP’s website makes you plug in a phone number and physical address so that it can tell you what kind of service you qualify for. Being that I don’t actually live at this place, and have no phone number there, I used the address and phone number of the management office. It honestly can’t be much different from the address and phone number of the supposed apartment that I may or may not be renting. Blah blah blah. “Congratulations, you qualify for our wonderful service . . . You live more than 15,000 feet from a CO so we have a great plan for you!” Basically, pay forty bucks more than I’m paying now, for slower speeds. Congratulations to me.

There’s always cable, I guess. Along with the ridiculous fee for breaking my contract.

You know, there are parts of the city I live in now where there is no way to get anything better than a dial up connection? Yeah. It sucks. When we lived with the buddhist, I was stuck with dialup.

I got into a fight with a man at work. There would be details here, but it appears that I’m getting tired.

Tomorrow I shall write a story about the laptop that reminded me of how glad I am that things are this way.

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A New Ride

That was the title of the paper that I just finished writing. Finally. I’ve been staring at blank Word documents for days. And when the page wasn’t blank, it was full of false starts and conversations with myself about all the things that I didn’t like about the book.

But that wasn’t the assignment, so rather than do all the complaining and foot dragging that I’ve got nearly perfected, I hauled my ass to the library which, as you can see by that photo, is beautiful, and is also open until 9pm monday through thursday, and is full of wonderful books, and only half full of distracting computers with distracting internet connections (which is why I went there to begin with – to get *away* from my precious internet). I lucked out and someone didn’t show up for the study room that they had reserved, so the lady at the reference desk told me I could have it, but if someone shows up claiming it’s theirs, it’s suck city for me. And that worked out well. No one came.

Apparently the rest of Bellevue was also in the library tonight, as the parking lot was nearly full, and the tables and desks in the common areas were pretty much taken. Lucky for me in my very own private study room, things were quiet. Outside the study room, not so quiet.

But I got the damn paper done, and that’s all that matters. I’m wondering why I want to be an english major again. That sucks because it’s a sign that lazy me is resurfacing. The one that does really well in classes, and really amazingly well on tests, but tackles assigments with tons of dread and hemming and hawing, and makes things out to be way way harder than they really are.

Take for instance the discussion that’s supposed to be going on, bulletin-board fashion, in my english class. The instructor posts four questions, one by one. You have so many days to go in and answer the questions. You are also required to respond to two people’s answers – thoughtful responses, not just “hey yeah, good point!”. But then the instructor got tricky on us. Instead of posting a fourth question, he leaves the last question to us – “Post a question of your own reguarding the text.” Um. There are several reasons why I haven’t completed my discussion work. 1) I honestly don’t care what most of my classmates have to say about this book. There is so much drivel going on there. Many people are obviously just answering for a grade and hardly putting any effort into they responses – Please tell me how I can possibly go through these posts and patiently read it all. In a class discussion, you sit there and listen. You don’t have to click, wait for the server to pull up the info, and then read it, only to find that you think the person is a moron and should learn to spell check. But you see, those half-assed people that are actually answering the questions – they’re getting a better grade than I am, not answering them. So far I’ve answered 3 questions and posted ONE thoughtful reply. Participation counts as 10% so I’m guessing that if I can get by with /some/ participation, I can still get an A in this class.

And then there’s reason 2) I seem to pass judgement pretty quickly on others. I assume the rest of the world does too. How wrong is that? Me and my timidity need to get over ourselves already. Timidity? Yes. It’s listed in M-W. I didn’t just make it up. Well, okay, I did. But I have backup this time!

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