Caterwauling

I am moving!

I’m trying not to spread the word.

Mostly because it’s been nonstop aggravation to get paperwork together and then not know if the apartment owner was going to let me have it or not.

And because the nutty HOA still needs blood samples, urinalysis, an IQ test and a whole bunch of cashiers checks before they agree to let me into their hallowed halls.

And also I know other people who are apartment-hunting and I don’t want them in mah new ‘hood.

This is why I refuse to date people I know — whether it’s the same company, same building, same city … fuck, same state!

When I am determined to ignore my phone, I don’t want anybody showing up at my doorstep. Or being able to see where my car is parked. Or knowing my status, whether it’s “online” or “alone tonight.”

Unrelated: Three years of not picking up the phone. Three. And we wonder why I’m moving into a near-fortress …

Forget Throwback Thursday (#tbt for all you young’ns at heart out there).

I’m initiating Throat-Punch Tuesdays instead (#tpt).

Actually some friends already coined Throat-Punch Thursdays because they aren’t the sentimental “throwback” types. Their rule is they pick one person they all want to take their aggressions out on.

Personally I just want to introduce myself to people who, in no way under God’s beautiful ball of sunshine in the sky, should have bequeathed a degree to people only because they paid for it.

I’m also ready to whip out a can o’ whup-ass for people who are difficult for the sake of being so.

You know, maybe if everyone weren’t so damn HIGH-MAINTENANCE we wouldn’t need to dedicate so many hours/tears/bottles of “coping juice” to the same cause.

“I’m trying hard to make you love me
But I don’t wanna try too hard
And I’m trying hard to take it lightly
But we’re here now.”

— Broods, “Four Walls”

I have a cousin we named “Sue,” because she successfully sued lots of people and that money is now paying for her nursing-home care.

I know another person who flails their arms and screams, “Litigation!” on a dime.

Now we know where “A Boy Named Sue” originated!

In any event, this is stressing me out and I’ve been taking it out on Mom. More than usual.

She had a mini-stroke this morning as I was overreacting to something. And no, I still haven’t gotten her health care. So I have to leave her at home to go deal with Sue instead.

I used to love my life. I’m going to try very hard to remember those days to get me through.

I just know I’m going to lose my mom sooner rather than later, and I’m going to have a U-Haul and a Pod full of regret on how very wrongly I’ve felt compelled to invest my time while I had her.

I have a friend I hang out with. And I know that when we hang out, I won’t get home till sunrise.

Today was one of those days. Oof.

I deserved that night out. I spent the day dragging mom around town to look at rental communities. Which, there aren’t many and they’re all overpriced, to say the very least.

We are to a point where staying at the Wreck of the Hesperus is starting to become a viable option.

Then out of the blue a realtor I talked to like a hundred years ago offered to show me a place. I said why not. And I loved it and now I’ve filled out a thousand pages of paperwork and am waiting for the owner to accept my offer.

Yes, you have to put in offers on rental spaces. What the actual fuck?

I made a full-price offer even though this place is way above what I wanted to pay. I figure that it’s going to take me at least 10 months to break even on the move, if it even happens.

There’s another offer from the owner’s friend. But she can’t seem to get her shit together with the paperwork. And I sat down for four hours yesterday and cranked out all my paperwork. So, being an A-student hopefully pays off.

I’m not worried. It’s in God’s hands now. And if it falls through, I am going to keep a super-close eye on that building.

Also, I’m going to need a second job. Or to quit spending money. Or to quit drinking, which is where all my money goes!