Just for a sec, though, I'd like to note how strange that is. Share with whom? The few (very few) people who read this bloody thing already know what's going on, for the most part. Or if they don't...well, of course there are some things I'd love to write about but I can't. I kind of miss being more anonymous on this thingamajig. I feel now that if I write about or to people that know me, without talking to them first, well...that's a little bit passive-aggressive, ya know?
Okay. So my article got killed. We already talked about this, so I can write about it. I'm pissed. I'm disappointed. I somewhat understand the reasoning, but not entirely. I had time and ego invested, so it sorta sucks. I'm not in your shoes, so I can't really know the feelings behind the action. I'm not judging, though. I'm staying on my side of the fence without blame. So those bits of sadness and anger? They're not directed at you, they're just there.
I feel like a dating retard. But then I realize I'm much better at it than I thought I was. Case in point: met a guy, had a connection, went out. Made out. But for some reason didn't let him come home with me. Parts of me wanted to. Very. Specific. Parts. But I didn't. Went out again. Talked on the phone. I quickly realized that the more I got to know him, the less I liked him. I decided that he and I could never date...but we could have some really good sex. So then I had a choice. Did I want to see this guy again solely for the good times and the good times? Considering the only time I thought about him in the last few days was right now, I guess the answer to that is "no".
Found an apartment. Love it love it love it. BUT. I put a bid on it and I still have yet to hear back. They're having an open house tomorrow. I decided not to go because I don't want to witness a bunch of people traipsing through "my" apartment. I really hope it doesn't escalate to a bidding war, because I'm sure I'll LOSE.
Bidding on the apartment brought up a fun little host of issues. I want to move. I don't want to move. I hate my neighborhood. I'm comfy there. My apartment doesn't fit me. I love my space. My street is noisy. I'm going to miss the ruckus. It's just a building. I'm going to miss my super. And my elevator men. I want to move. Do I deserve to move? Am I throwing money away? Should I wait until I'm going to live with somebody so as not to have to go through this all over again? I have to find office space! I can't afford office space. I need more clients. I feel tapped out in pursuing.
Even I find that thought process annoying. I can't imagine how boring it must be to any poor schmuck reading this claptrap.
Alright. I'm off to (finally) write my April newsletter. It's all about poop. Yay for poop!
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