If I were Polly Pocket this would be less frustrating

Today I asked myself the question, “Why can’t I just live in a dugout?” twice today.  And while I may not be a pioneer, I think I have an inkling of how they might have felt…  the teeniest inkling.  I woke up at a friend’s house since I’m about two-weeks removed from my last rental home in College.  While I don’t have to collect buffalo dookee for fire or ration my supply of salted-pork for sustenance, I definitely don’t have an apparent place to live.

Bilbo Baggins and Laura Ingalls know what’s up.

Looking for a new home knocks me out.  There are many things that frustrate me to wit’s end — many a thing — like when I’m reading a magazine and those freaking leaflets fall out and make me want to kill someone.  But nothing compares to this suck-ass search.  Especially when I want to live with two good friends.  And we’re being choosy.  And it’s late in the game.  So now I think I’ve entered the “Each man for himself stage,” or at least I have.  Not to attach the idea of roommates to a specific level of maturity, but I think it’s about time that I live on my own.  It seems right — I know myself.  I am fond of leaving home when I do not get the house to myself.  If I can’t control messes that aren’t my own I go crazay.  Plus I have weird little habits that go late into the night… like disturbingly late into the night.  Cue forward to the moment I sit alone at my kitchen table and cry into my bowl of Ramen while I play a game of chess against myself.

Not only does Polly Pocket have several $7 home options…

apparently one of them comes with an anti-gravity chamber?

Right now: keeping my options open like 7-11.  Looking at 1, 2 and 3 bedrooms.  Somehow I still feel like I’m cheating on my one true residential love.

I gave up an awesome opportunity to live in this killer one-bedroom apartment above my friend Annie’s, to my friend Kimberly to try out this roommate thing again.   Now I’m afraid I have to be a White Man Giver and wishy-washily beg for the apartment back.  How sad is that? I just get so bummed thinking about how I gave it up so fast, without giving it time to survey my other options (and find out that they aren’t exactly working).

That’s what she said.

Ah, but really, that is what she said.


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