Level Ground, Loaded Down.

The Move.

The Essex's Last Stand

My apartment has decided to battle me this last and final week:

• The shower refuses to drain in a timely manner.  It scoffs at Drain-o.   
• The toilet (unprovoked, mind you*) has decided to simply swirl the toilet paper instead of actually flushing it away.
• My phone is a static nightmare that refuses to hold a charge.
• Ronald, my creep-o neighbor, has clued in about the move which prompted him to get wide-eyed, stare into space and then walk off in a daze with his two hyena-like canines.  Uh, let's just say I am not staying at the apartment during the move because of Ol' Creepster Ronnie.  
• And it is taking me twice as long to go through eight years of junk.  Its like running in mud.  I just cannot get out fast enough.    

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Come on, Essex!  Don't fail me now!


*Come on.  Like I would post if it were gross.  I am a lady.

i need some of this in my life.

Beer & a shower

If you asked me how my day was today that would be my answer.

Simultaneously.

Thirty Days Til Evacuation

Just submitted my 30-day notice to move out.  


Cinco de Mayo has a whole new meaning for freedom.


~ahhhh~
  (sigh)

Question for the Universe

If you put three cookies in a bag but then they crumble...and then you eat the crumbs...do the calories count?

I mean, its only crumbs...right?

Hostage.

Ever park your car near a Starbuck's so you can access their wireless internet in an attempt to try and break free from the five UNassembled bridesmaid dresses that are holding you hostage in your apartment with their silent mocking when all you WANT to do is go back to your couch and shovel yogurt covered pretzels in your mouth while guzzling wine while trying to sort out the rest of your life?

WELL THEN. 


GFY.