Escape plan
Just figured I’d write a blog entry when I’m as close to being happy to be alive as I will ever get. 😉
Nothing extraordinary is going on. My friend T is in town, which is about the only time that I feel good and right. She leaves tomorrow, so I’ll be my old surly self in no time. BUT she will stay with me next time she’s in town. YAY!
We also welcome B from Hotlanta and B from San Francisco into the fold this week, even if it’s just for a couple of days. It’s been great. Really. If every week could be as glorious as this one, I would be SUCH a happier person.
The move is not necessarily on hold, but not moving forward. For some stupid reason, my mommy has to sign MY lease. Not just for the place she will be occupying, but also the one to which she will NEVER EVER NEVER get the key EVER. I don’t get it.
I have to have her sign it and I’ll drop off another deposit (I got a deposit for my unit; now for hers). Basically I’ll be paying THREE rents for the next two-ish months.
I keep telling myself it will all be worthwhile.
My friend P gave me a job application for the Over-Extended Houseguest at her kid’s school. They’re not hiring but CAN YOU IMAGINE making this move and not only does my life change, but hers as well?
Wouldn’t it be even greater for her to pay her own damn bills/rent/utilities and I can move on with the business of LIVING MY OWN LIFE FOR A CHANGE?
She needs money for her bills. LIKE I HAVE NOTHING ELSE GOING ON RIGHT NOW. Oh, I’m so frustrated.
More frustrated, still, that she ALWAYS barges into my bedroom and asks if she can come in. Every single time, I say no. And every time she keeps flapping her jaws like I said, “Sure, come in and bore the bejeezus out of me, please!”
I haven’t scheduled movers but, again, P knows some guys who will do it for me (for a cost, of course). Seriously, this woman is heaven-sent.
I’m finally, finally starting to feel like I’m going to turn out OK. Eventually. Not anytime soon. But I refuse to wonder what if the OEH doesn’t get a job and OMG how will I afford to pay for separate lives for both of us for the longer term.
But I can’t think that way. I just can’t. I am going to get her on her feet if it kills me. I will get rid of the cats’ fleas if it kills me. I will live on wine and cat food in my new apartment if it kills me. I will GET OUT OF THIS FUCKED-UP SITUATION that I didn’t ask for and DO NOT WANT because I deserve better.
It’ll be OK. I will be, too.
Send cake. And drugs. I’ll give you the address when you arrive in the neighborhood to stay with me in my lovely new place. …
July 25th, 2009 at 5:33 PM
*mwah* You can do it, babeh.
As for the fleas, having indoor/outdoor cats, this is something we go through yearly. Frontline is an okay flea medicine for a smaller cat. If that doesn’t work, get a vet to sell you some Advantage- it’s a little heavier duty. BUT, treating the cat won’t work if you don’t treat the apartment. Vacuum every room in the house, even the spots that aren’t carpeted. If that doesn’t help, you can get a flea bomb, but then EVERY occupant of the apartment has to leave for a couple of hours, and then you have to leave your windows open. In theory, bathing them works, but you know, only if you can get them to stop struggling long enough to get them wet to their skin. BWAHAHAHAHA.