July 22, 2002
I can't sleep.
I'm thinking about the apartment I looked at earlier (the 19th). Thinking about the application sitting on the desk next to me, already filled out. Worrying about the application being rejected even though the rent at the new place would be less than it is here. Trying to think of what will happen if it does get rejected: I can see myself packing up the truck to drive back to Akron, where all my stuff would go into storage. My mother, father, stepfather and stepmother all trying to convince me that it ain't all that bad; that a lot of people move back in with their parents, at least temporarily. I see myself sitting in front of my computer, typing an e-mail for Melman to pass along. Trying to find a nice way of saying, "I couldn't get a job after five months, or even find an apartment in the entire city of Pittsburgh."
Trying not to think about what a total and abject failure it would be.
Then I realize that I probably will get the apartment, and I start thinking about how odd the layout is: The living room is at ground level, with a hallway leading toward the back of the house. Then there's a set of stairs down to the (finished) basement where the kitchen, bedroom and bathroom are, in that order from the stairwell. Something in the back of my brain doesn't like the fact that I'll probably take this apartment just for the sake of having an apartment, even though I'm not terribly thrilled about it. Because I don't want the first thing I was thinking about to happen.
I'm also thinking about the cute blonde girl that showed me the place. The insecure part of me wonders whether I'd have any chance at all with her, like she's some kind of frickin' royalty instead of someone who works in a crappy office for a company that rents cheap apartments.
You know, it's probably a good thing I don't have a girlfriend right now, because I'd probably have driven her up the fucking wall weeks ago. On the other hand, maybe I just need to get laid.
"It's now five and a half minutes after two AM, and you're listening to WBMN, the bitching and moaning network." Y'know, I started doing these entries to try to provide some kind of entertainment value for whoever stumbled across them. I never knew they'd turn into therapy.
Well, I've unloaded now. Thanks for letting me vent my frustrations. We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.
Update: As the logical half of my brain was trying to tell me all along, it's going fine. I just gave them the security deposit and rental application. All that's left is the credit check, and since I pay my bills on time, that won't be a problem either. Let's hear it for not moving back to Akron!
