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2005-08-02 @ 8:52 p.m. |
Dear God: Thank you for making anti-anxiety medicine. It really comes in handy for someone like me, since I usually feel like a cat hanging upside down over a yard of frothing pit bulls. But can I ask you one more teensy eensy favor? Can you make a medicine that will make me impervious to stupid people and enable me not to over react to seemingly insignificant situations? Thanks. Love, witty Oy vey! Ok, so today was the day I was supposed to meet my new landlord and see the new actual apartment I will be renting. I wanted to wait for an apartment to become available on the other side of the complex where I would be able to overlook a creek and a waterfall. That�s what I wanted all along. How often do you get to look out your front door and see trees and a creek and a waterfall? Right now my yard consists of grass, a view of a large dental office building, my favorite air conditioning unit and a large rusted out truck with four flat tires in the driveway. It�s stunning I say, and I know I�ll be sad to give it up for trees, creek and a waterfall, but I�m sure I�ll soldier through. So we met the guy at 2:30. And it was hotter than a filipino mail order whore�s inner thigh today. Fruck. When is this heat ever going to end? But Brent finally pulled up in his SUV. Did I mention this guy�s feet never touches the ground? He�s very hyper and skinny and talks really fast. Is he like a yuppie cokehead? I�m actually starting to wonder. So we went up to the apartment and happily it was right above where the waterfall is. It was very nice and peaceful looking. They had just put in some new carpet. The rest of the apartment looked like hell though. Whoever just moved out must have never cleaned, because everything was filthy, especially the bathroom. All the lightbulbs in the lighting fixture were out except for maybe one 20 watt one. It looked like a crackhouse bathroom. I�m not exactly the first name in cleanliness, but that bathroom was particularly gruesome. I just can�t believe anyone would leave a place looking like that. Geeze. I asked Brent if he had the lease. Him: �Um, no. Your mom didn�t say to bring one.� My mom was looking at me. I knew she had. She�s been doing all my calls for me since I have phone phobia. He then said he did have an application out in the car and would go get it. When he went out the door, she told me she had, and I knew she had. He was back in a flash with a really general application. The only problem is, I have an appointment with Section 8 Thursday. I have to have a lease in my hand. It takes 2-3 weeks to get appointments with Section 8. I already have paperwork with them saying I�m moving in 4 weeks. If I don�t have the appointment Thursday, I won�t get my funding. I also need a lease for the other agency helping me with my deposit. I have to have something with their name and the rent amount on it. This piece of paper, which looks like it was typed in 1969 and xeroxed about 1.6 million times, probably won�t cut it. But by then, Breezy Brent was already saying, �Well, gotta go. I�ve got a million things to do, yup, a million things to do, million, yes, a million..yes, yes.� And I was thinking...like meet your cocaine dealer over behind Target? I�ve now met this guy three times and I literally know nothing about the apartment. Everything I know about the apartment I heard from the Freaky Eyebrows chick the first time. He is sure being free and easy about everything. He said as soon as they get the place cleaned up I can start moving stuff in...as in before September 1st, and I won�t have to pay rent for that last part of August. Of course I�m thrilled about that part, because Lord knows, doing this all alone, I need a lot of time to do this move, but things just seem too easy. It�s kind of made me think of that famous Woody Allen quip: �I wouldn�t want to be a member of a club, who would want me as a member.� In other words, I�m moving into an apartment with no application, no money, no reference calls. I could be like a serial killer or an arsonist or worse yet, a Republican. It kinda makes me worry about who my neighbors are. Was their screening process as lax? Maybe ol� Breezy Brent was on the wagon then. Who knows? So after he left I was standing in the kitchen with my mom, and just broke down crying. I was very concerned about the missing paperwork. I decided to call my office. I work for a social service agency who deals with housing situations and government agencies. I talked to the woman who had helped me fill out the paperwork for the deposit funding. She thought I would probably be ok, going into Section 8 without a signed lease, because I�m going to be creating a lease with them. So at least that was good news. Sorta. So I walked around the apartment one last time, hoping that all my furniture will fit and that a broken window will be fixed before the Section 8 inspectors come. I do like the view though, out of both ends of the apartment. The bedroom and living room mainly looks off into a large tree and into the surrounding neighborhoods. And then the front door faces the gurgling creek and waterfall and trees. And Guardcat is going to have a blast because it has a screened porch and she�ll probably get whiplash watching all the birds flying by. Other than that, its been fairly calm week. I had lunch with my married co-worker �J� Monday and by gum, it kinda felt like a date for some reason. Not sure why. I think he likes being seen with a hot chick*. (* that�s me by the way). We, of course, run a group together on Monday normally, but for some reason, when I made the poster for our class, I had forgotten to put in a class for August 1st. I don�t know if I just forgot it or whether �J� hadn�t written it on the original copy, so we weren�t really planning on staying yesterday. I know I wasn�t. I had a date with my laundry basket. But my boss asked if we could stick around in case any of our group attendees showed up and even though last week we told them NOT to, guess what? They did. (Its so nice to be loved). Fortunately, I had done a little brainstorming on a subject to talk about and Googled up some info and it went extremely well. �J� really liked it. Although initially when we first got in the room, �J� and our participant, a nice looking African American gentleman who is actually attending our 10 week course for a 2nd time, started talking about foods we liked and I was sitting between them and was suddenly aware that they were both gazing at me rhapsodically as I talked about my intense desire to consume Mexican Food made by real Mexicans. I told them that that was actually going to be the subject of the day�s group...witty�s favorite foods. Whee! They seemed to think that was pretty thrilling. Or that I was pretty thrilling. One or the other. After group �J� and I saw our boss briefly and he told her we had two people show up and he said it was because of me...because I make people feel so comfortable. I thought that was nice. I get all nervous when people say nice things....like I should pay them a dollar or something. I just hope the people at Section Eight think the same thing. Older Entries |
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty |
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