Thursday, January 21, 2010

A short essay on why moving out is not the same when you are 18 as when you are 22

Well, well it appears I am now renting an apartment. I say appears because I am not actually sure what just happened. Deven and I went to look at a place and all the sudden it was like cute entry...Wood paneling?... Why is there a sink in the living room?... Oh but I love the windows... Please sign this lease. And it was done. To the apartment's credit, it IS cute and I HAVE been needing to downsize my belongings by like, oh, I don't know 70 percent.

Anyway, the point is, I am moving out! I can't wait for the wild nights in which I will stay up past 11 p.m. and then be cranky the next morning when I wake up at 7 to go to work! Oh ho ho neighbors, you better watch out for the soft indie-folk tunes that will be pouring out of my stereo during those late nights. That smell? Oh that's just my INCENSE (burned strictly because I like the scent, not to cover drug use of any sort) suckaaaa!

Yesterday I used dry shampoo in a desperate attempt to avoid showering and it made my hair turn a shade of gray that could only be remedied by taking a shower. Isn't that ironic. Are those two thoughts related? I'm not sure.

Friday, January 15, 2010

A post in which I excessively use footnotes

Each day, as I sit in the office and try to make up tasks for myself*, I grow more and more socially awkward. It begins from the time I walk into the features nook and decide if "Hello" or "Good morning" would be more appropriate. It usually comes out as "Hellorning."

From there it generally speeds downhill as I internally debate what, exactly, I should be doing and whether or not I should speak to my co-workers/editors**. Then I compulsively drink water bottles until it is 5 p.m.; at which point I can gather my belongings, whisper "Goodbye" and get out of the elevator on the wrong floor and wander around until I find my car as the other writers drive by, undoubtedly puzzled at why I look like a crazed hobo searching for shelter in the parking garage.

Oh adult life, you're more than I ever dreamed. I commute. I take a lunch (but only when I don't feel awkward about asking to leave. DO I NEED MEDICATION?) I wear office appropriate clothes. This little charade ends come May and is it wrong that I just want to go back to school?



* A conversation that just occurred in my head: "Hmmmm what can I google that looks as if I am doing research when I am not? How to crochet? That might prove useful. But can I make it look like I am NOT, in fact, googling crocheting lessons? Probably not. I guess I will just refresh CNN again to see if they have posted any stories about celebrities because THAT is what I choose to be interested in, not important things like the crisis in Haiti. Which is very sad. It just doesn't make time pass by as quickly as fashion/music/scandal."

** Not because I don't want to, but because my track record is not very good. I generally walk away from conversations re-playing them and cringing at myself for spewing out sentences like "Um, like, that's too funny. Ha." SERIOUSLY?