Caterwauling

I don’t even want to talk about how many hours I was not at work between yesterday and today (hint: not many), but damn, I’m tired. I am trying to just do two last projects before calling it a day, but it’s gonna be rough. (And we’re not talking about exactly what kind of day we’re going to call it!)

In better news (I guess), they changed the dress code to biz casual. But still no jeans, not even on Fridays. And I own exactly two pairs of casual pants, so I will probably be wearing suits till the end of time just cuz I HAVE them. In sum, to quote a colleague, men don’t have to wear ties anymore, and the women get to watch them not wearing ties. How exciting is that?!?! 🙂

In any event, nothing else to type today. Back on the apartment-hunting bandwagon this weekend. I think I have a ridiculously easy solution to all of this, one so obvious I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner. And no, it doesn’t involve moving into the office, although that wouldn’t be the least-appropriate option in all of this! (“Sunny came home with a mission. …”)

After my whole three hours of sleep last night this morning, I decided to, uh, get happy. (My metaphor for breaking out the heavy machinery. *cough*) I think I sprained something. It’s pretty bad when I can’t walk after getting some … from myself.

*bonk*

*snooze*

Maddie took a big whopping shit on my issue of Cosmo and then pissed all over it for good measure. Damn — I never did get to read that article on “The Sex He’ll Die For.” Oh well — the loss ain’t mine! 😉

I wish she would have instead destroyed the copy of Apartment Guide that was lying on the floor next to it. I am more annoyed than anything by Place A’s rejection of me. I wrote to the property manager that apparently 14 years of paying rent/utilities on time doesn’t show up on one’s credit report. But then again, neither does being clean and quiet, either. Take your perfect-credit-score assholes and wipe your asses with them — and check out how many people they’re cramming into the place and how much food they leave rotting on countertops.

I ran into that with one of the places I looked at — a manager actually slipped and made a snarky comment about foreigners who leave food out and don’t use the fridge and BOY do they get bugs. Yeah. Splendid.

I was so put in the wrong social class. …