The apartment hunting yesterday went… particularly well. Herein is a true account of all that happened.

Sparklepants and I drove down a few nice, tree-lined streets off of a main strip through our town. We said “oh. This is not bad. This is rather pretty.”

We turned into the parking lot. I blinked. David Gray was on the iPod singing “smile like you mean it.” So I tried to listen to him. I did not want Sparklepants to think I was rushing to any decisions. There were no trees. We parked the car and got out. We went to the apartment we were supposed to be seeing. We could hear other people in there, being shown the place. We knocked a few times, but there was no response. We stood on the front stoop.

We listened to them talk about how there’s no dishwasher, and yes, the kitchen is very small. The window units for air conditioning. Etc. We stood there and listened for twenty minutes while no one responded to our knock/s on the door. We stood there while the smell of cat pee permeated the air. We stood there another seven minutes. At which point it had been about half an hour since the realtor person had told us we needed to show up. I was very grumpy. I was very hungry. I did not want to be there. I hated the place. It smelled and the people were…wow, really rude and not on time.

I looked at Sparklepants and said “I’m making an executive decision” right as she said “let’s go.”

So we, feeling like we were the rude ones in leaving, snuck back to our car and tried to whisper/talk until we were “out of hearing range” of the woman who clearly couldn’t hear that she had prospective clients on the goddamn doorstep for a half an hour while they went back to look at this that and the other thing again.

We went to see Adam Brody in a movie, and he was Adamy and Brodyish.

Someone felt the need to clue me in on details of the life of an ex-boyfriend that I would really rather shoot in the head than hear about ever again. Then I tried really hard not to be very, very grumpy and it didn’t work. I got home to a letter that was so incredibly mean and condescending that it alternately made me want to cry and feel very bad about myself and drive very far to the place where the person who wrote it lived and shoot THEM in the head. Then I took a shower. Then I realized I had forgotten something very important and ran straight from the shower to the car, stopping only very quickly to clothe myself, and drove to campus to help out a friend whom I had FORGOTTEN NEEDED MY HELP. THEN I GOT LOST ON THE WAY BACK FROM CAMPUS! Then I got home and got in a fight with El Boyo via text message, which really, after the rest of the night I should have known better. The night proceeded downward from there.

Bright side: Maybe I’ll get my emo closet after all.
Not-bright side: I’m probably really going to need it.

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