Take a Bottle, Drink it Down

October 20th, 2003

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.