Where is my damn Sudafed? Thursday, June 19, 2008Praise baby Jesus (because I'm sure he had a lot to do with it), but my landlord called me back at 9pm. In my head I'd given him a 9:30pm deadline before I totally lost my shit, which would involve me driving over to his house with my toiletries and asking to take a shower and use the toilet. He was massively apologetic on the phone and told me to get the carpet cleaned and send him the bill. Which I fully intend to do once I get my damn shit together. Currently I feel like bits of my sanity are held together with scotch tape and perhaps might go flying off if they were to encounter a stiff wind. Its the move that makes me feel this way. I spent at least an hour last night poking through the boxes looking for the giant powder blue makeup bag that held my salvation (sinus medication) and couldn't find it. This morning I was miserable, stuffy headed and still looking for that damn bag. Then I realized I might have actually already put the damn thing away, and just like that I opened my closet and there it was.
I'm slowly making progress with all the boxes and stuff piled around me in the new place. Last night I managed to get several boxes cleared away and make a real meal. One with chopped veg and everything. Tonight my goal is to attack the remaining boxes in the left quadrant of my apartment, the right quadrant is still a total mess and I'm dealing with it by completely avoiding it. Sounds like a plan, no?
The right will come under attack this weekend, hopefully by Sunday everything will be in it's own place. Oh, except that the giant Rubbermaid containers will be chillin' in the main room. Because there is only one closet and it's already full of clothes, extra bed linen, and shoes. I have no idea what I'm going to do with all of them since House Du Rubbermaid isn't really my decorating style. Perhaps I'll even get ambitious and hang pictures this weekend.
And steam clean the motherfucking carpet.
Oh, and make damn cookies for my nephew's birthday (which was a month ago).
Clearly I'm on top of it all.
Shit, shit, shit. I've turned into one of those people who bitches all the time about being busy yet does nothing to stop it. I hate those people. I guess I can add 'self-loathing' to my list of complaints and things to do.