Caterwauling

“Venti” isn’t just on the menu at Starbucks; that’s how I’m feeling today — very “venty.”

Cryptic bullshit alert: The Howling Hyena has been quiet, but seems to be coming back with a dull roar. Gah. Don’t feed the animals, people. Seriously.

Seems like everyone’s on edge today (not just me). We’re all in a state of waiting for something, even if we don’t know what it is. Others are waiting on me; I’m waiting on people beyond them. Everyone’s just sitting around, both anticipating and dreading when the first domino falls because it’s going to be a goddamned whirlwind when those little bastards start toppling.

There’s a part of me that’s enjoying the quiet, and the other that’s ready to just get it the fuck overwith already. I’m just so ready to move on to the next stage of things, personally and professionally, but I’m not in the mood to lay the foundation. Can’t I just wiggle my nose, blink and nod my head, and it will just happen already?

The latest apartment building to which I’ve applied was actually NOT going to approve me based on the the fact that I have holds on three other apartments in the city. They’re like, why the hell would we want you if you’re spreading that income over that many places?

(Do the math — I can’t afford ONE place, let alone four!)

They just need to call the idiots in charge of my current abode, and then I’ll be approved.

But good to know that they can SEE what you’ve done so far. Damn it. I hate that shit — I hate that I have to explain why I took Place B and Place M and Place Q but that I REALLY want Place C.

One wonders whether all these fucking hurdles are meant to make me want the places more, or whether it’s a sign to keep looking. I’m so goddamned tired of this process, the drama, the aggravation, the insanity, the sleepless nights.

I think I love the place I’m going to take. (Note that “think.”) It’s in a high-rise with a security entrance. And as I am special and need protection, it’s perfect for me. Moving day might be a real bitch, but then again, so am I!

It’s upward of 70 degrees outside in the Metro D.C. region today, which doesn’t do me a shit bit of good ’cause the shackles are around my ankles at my desk. Luckily, I have a huge-ass window, so at least I can appreciate daylight-saving time in some regard!

But what I notice when the weather gets warmer is that the women wear more skirts, ostensibly to catch a breeze. And I hate to say it, but the warmer the weather, the more inclined I am to wear pants. Not because I want to strangle my hoo-ha, but because if I wear a skirt without pantyhose, the friction of my thighs rubbing together could cause a fucking four-alarm fire. And I just can’t deal with pantyhose because I haven’t shaved my legs in a week I usually end up spearing them with my fingernails and ruining them before I even have them fully pulled on.

In any event, it’s a Wednesday — the (no-time-to) hump day. So, I’d better get humpin’ — er, hoppin’. 🙂