Which Way to the End?

Well, it's that time of the semester. When both my students and I are effectively sick of going to class, and perhaps moderately sick of each other. I still sort of care that they've learned something--despite the fact that I am leaving my current institution at the end of this semester and joining another and am not really obligated to care--but not really enough to feel any motivation to grade their crappy papers, except to get them over with. Oy. Just oy.

I also found myself very ill last night. Had a whopping stomachache, and then my stomach then decided to..er...empty itself several times, and I didn't get much sleep, and just generally felt crappy. I also went through what is now a standard reflexive thought process for me after the whole appendicitis thing last Sept/Oct, and the two trips to the hospital that were made in response to stomachaches, namely: 1) Preliminary waves of nervousness that could very easily cross over into panic, and 2) Thoughts such as, "Should I go to the hospital AGAIN? I really don't want to go the hospital AGAIN." It seriously was painful enough to merit that thought process, and because it lasted for several hours, I was seriously thinking about it. I didn't go, and I do feel better this morning, but am still a bit queasy, and am watching what I eat, and am wondering whether I've caught some sort of end-of-the-semester-nasty bug/virus. I hope it's the latter.

Work that pays me has also been driving me crazy. Again, because it's the end of the spring semester, and well, universities tend to have lots of big events at the end of the spring semester, and the office that employs me is usually pretty heavily involved.

Which means we've been darn busy, and as luck would have it, in my last year at this job, wouldn't you know, but we'd have to have a New Person in Charge who is involved with much of the planning of these events. And New Person in Charge, or as I shall refer to her henceforth, NPiC (hey, that almost looks like an abbreviation for nitpick--which would actually be totally appropriate), has been driving me and everyone else in my office up the freaking wall.

Because, well, it's one thing to not completely know what you're doing, and to be learning the proverbial ropes, and all that. It's an entirely different thing to be in that situation but to act as though you know everything, to be uncommunicative with the other offices you need to coordinate with to pull off aforementioned events, to expect those other offices to respond to your beckon call while also handing their staff inadequate information or poorly conceived materials. Freaking NPiC needs to be schooled in some form or another. Unfortunately, I can't be the person to do the schooling. Because let's face it, I'm still on the lowly end of the office status ladder, and I probably won't even ever meet NPiC face to face. Ah well.

And to go back to the subject of my previous post, my "dream" apartment turned out not to be my dream apartment. Don't get me wrong. It was quite elegant in its way; but I'm not sure it was ME...which I guess means I'm not elegant--and frankly, I'm ok with that. I then thought I'd found my dream apartment again. I was so sure, in fact, that I filled out an application and handed over a security deposit, but then my actual dream apartment came into existence, thanks to a friend's inside scoop, and I had to withdraw the application and beg for my security deposit back, which fortunately for me, was something the realtor and prospective landlord agreed to do (I still need to doublecheck this with my bank, but fortunately, Bflo is not NYC, and people are nicer about things like giving back security deposits). Now I haven't signed a lease yet, and while I'm optimistic about my chances of signing a lease, these things are never really certain until that moment you sign on the proverbial dotted line. (No I don't know why I'm using the word "proverbial" repeatedly. Search me.) And in the meantime, in anticipation of my taking possession of my new dream apartment, I'm getting sick to death of my current apartment, and especially my neighbor who lives in the apartment above me--who is not a fundamentally bad person as far as I know but who smokes like a chimney, stomps around in what appear to be very heavy boots, and appears to constantly be moving (or perhaps dropping?) furniture, and who appears to do nothing but watch t.v. all day while chain-smoking cigarettes or pot, which wouldn't bother me in principle, except that I have to smell the cigarettes/pot, and hear the t.v., which he frequently keeps at a highly questionable volume.

Now, I know these aren't unforgivable crimes. I know that. In fact, this neighbor is a VAST improvement over the previous upstairs tenant. But that doesn't mean he hasn't been driving me nuts for as long as he's been living there, or that I don't rejoice every time he leaves the house while I'm home, or conversely, rejoice when I come home and he's not there, or that I am not desperately hoping to get the hell out of my current apartment a.s.a.p.

My point is this: Make it end, god, please make it end. The semester, the stomach thing-- whatever the hell it is--my time in my current office job, and my time in my current apartment.

When it does finally end, however, I think life will wildly improve.

Fantasy is Awesome

All right.

So I think I'm starting to wrap my head around this whole "I've got a job" thing, and of course, the beauty of having a reasonably well-paying job, especially in a city like Bflo, where living expenses are relatively low, is that I have actual disposable income, and can move into a better apartment, and buy "real" furniture, and then have housewarming parties, and maybe even dinner parties, or tea parties, or brunches...things I've been positively yearning to have...

Anyway, I've started cruising for potential apartments-- and I think I found my fantasy apartment, and am now seeing if it might be come my reality apartment. I'd seen it initially a few days ago, called the listed phone #, but the owner wanted a tenant sooner than I was initially prepared to move.

But then I kept looking at the fantasy, maybe reality apartment, and I showed it to my friend Leslie, and she thought it looked like a "great space" too, and asked whether I might just take the plunge and move earlier. And Leslie is one of those people whose judgement you trust about these sorts of things, and so what did I do? I left a message with the realty people (I haven't had direct contact with the owners) on their answering machine that went something like this: "Hi, my name is X...You might remember that I called a few days ago about the apartment you have listed on Y at Street Names A and B, and I was wondering if it was still available because I think I'm basically in love with the apartment, and I know that the owners want a tenant a.s.a.p. but I was wondering if they would be willing to do a May 1st starting date for a lease. Please give me a call back at phone # Z."

And yes, I really did say I was in love with the apartment. You would be too if you got a look at this baby...It's huge and gorgeous and has everything that I want.

Like for instance:

It has 2 bdrms, one of which is small, but that's fine because I want it for an office anyway, and laundry facilities on the premises.

It has a living room and dining room that are big and beautiful and have great light, and all kinds of interesting features, and built-in shelving and other storage devices that I can't quite categorize.

It has a porch/balcony, and a little space that has 3 humongous windows that would be awesome for a window seat, though there isn't actually a window seat, but you could totally put an ottoman or a chaise or one of those antimacassar thingies there and it would be totally Victorian and romantic, and the kind of spot where I could receive suitors or swoon or be consumptive or perhaps just take a wee glass of sherry.

And they take cats but not dogs, which is awesome--because I have cats but don't want to live with dogs.

And it has newly refinished hardwood floors, and is painted a light yellow which works surprisingly well, and will totally work with my fantasy color scheme--well maybe not exactly but I wouldn't feel like I needed to paint over everything like I did with the apartment I actually went to look at earlier today which was cheaper but not nearly as wonderful.

It is large enough that I could literally skip through the apartment for a good 10 skips at least, I think, and as far as my dancing wildly around the apartment goes--I think new highs would be reached.

So that's why I took at least this initial, preliminary plunge, made the leap, of calling and essentially grovelling... But if I get my fantasy apartment, it will be the best grovelling I have done in quite some time.

So wish me luck on this apartment. I'm working largely on impulse right now, but perhaps my spontaneity will pay off...If I get it, I'll post the pictures that first compelled me to grovel...

Addendum: This is to state that Leslie bears no responsibility for my either gaining or losing aforementioned fantasy apartment, or for any remorse/regret that might accompany it.