Oh, the Humanity!

Clearly, this is a post with a very maudlin, hypermelodramatic theme. Just go with it.

Ive been looking for a place for me and Dog to live for about two months now. Its become most seriously annoying. Every place that allows dogs is about $9,024,957, out of my price range, and even then is still the size of my car. Oh, and the places that are in my price range? Size of a matchbox car, and they dont allow dogs.

Poor Dog, she's starting to get a complex. She's a snuggly quiet little nugget o' love who only occasionally misbehaves. And the misbehaving is never chewing shoes or tearing carpets or barking. Its always running around with a toy in her mouth, mooing, while she tries to get me to pay attention to her at a moment when Im otherwise occupied. I know every dog owner thinks their dog is the BEST DOG EVER, but I think Dog actually is. She is quiet, non-smelly (except the faint wafting odor of Fritos since her last grooming), non-farty, and exceptionally cuddly. I would trust her with a newborn baby on the floor covered in peanut butter and steak.

Needless to say, I am having a hard time accepting that prospective landlords are unwilling to even negotiate on the issue. Its been really frustrating. I always mention upfront that she has to come with me, and that I am willing to pay an extra $100/month for her and have the rugs cleaned (if there are rugs) when I move out. So far, nothing. I keep looking, because god knows if I stay where I am, someone will be leaving in handcuffs. My April move-date might have to be pushed back, though, if I keep encountering this kind of rejection.

The Never Ending Week...

...continues. Its only Thursday (she whined, dispassionately flinging herself prostrate upon her work surface)!

I know... I had a whole nice long break before Christmas until the Monday following New Year off, and now Im whining because I'm at work. I am grateful to have a job (don't get me wrong--- really, REALLY grateful), but some weeks just seem to take forever to finish. This week happens to be one of them.

I think it's mostly because I am struggling so much with the whole adulthood thing. Swapping from Irresponsibile to Responsible has been waaay harder than expected. I knew it would be an adjustment, but good grief. This is particularly painful.

People continue to post photos to Facebook. I can't tell if they're taunting me specifically, because they have been informed of my Year of Austerity, or just sharing their respectively awesome trips. Either option is equally likely, especially since I spent all of last year doing the very same thing to them. My friend from college AWP is going to Vegas for a week. She announced this last night. I am going no where. I am heartbroken. It's like kicking a puppy, it seems. . . to me, at least.

So here I am. Stuggling to complete a workday Thursday. I have another hour and 5 minutes to go. Not that I am counting, of course. Wrestling with this particular package has been exceptionally difficult. I am truly grateful that we only get this material in once or twice a year.

Rant-o-riffic

Im gonna go off a little bit right here, because I am at the end of my rope.

A few weeks ago, I mentioned in a post about a former friend who sent me a ridiculous number of emails and texts and phonecalls and blah blah blah without getting any sort of response from me. I did this because I very clearly told her I DO NOT WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND ANYMORE. I do not know how much more clear I could be.

And for a while, all things were good. She seemed to get the point.

...and then the emails started again.

This is when I start to lose my sh*t because I have in no way encouraged this. Insane people just seem to magically find me. It happens to me with boyfriends, with lab partners, and now people I used to work with at a job I no longer have. I wonder, Am I a crazy people magnet? Or is there a reason insanity really likes me?

I knew once this woman sent me one email -about a fricken road race of all things- I knew others would follow. I had that familiar sense of sick dread. You know the one-- the one where you stomach gets all gnarly and it feels like your bellybutton is gonna collapse into your butt. There was the random recipe. Then there was the unsolicited training update. And finally, there was an animated .gif of some small child being runover by a dog. These, being sent to my work email, cannot be blocked because I am an Outlook Explorer retard who can't figure out how to make "rules" and have certain email addresses blocked or designated immediately as trash.

I have ducked and hidden and sneaked around work to avoid having to interact with her. I know this is immature. I simply do not care. I see her in the cafe, and I whip around and go back from whence I came in order to avoid her. Shes not a bad person, she's just a psycho who doesn't understand boundaries. This sucks when it happens, but it sucks worse at the workplace because unless I change companies (which, HA! in this economy), I have to continue risking an encounter.

 I would rather risk an encounter with a bear.
Or an alien.
Or a really big spider. (And I hate those!)
I could go on. But I won't. I just wish there was some sort of spray, like Psycho Repellant, that would keep Crazy People away.