Aisle 22

Aisle 22: Travel Size Toiletries.

So... three weeks till I am homeless. Yep... fun fun fun in the sun sun sun with a shot gun gun. Friday I go down to check out a place in the Bronx (I think I'm meeting with a broker which is so not cool) and later that night I'm heading... some where... to check out a place that needs more roommates. Only thing is I've sent out about ten emails in the past 24 hours about apartments and called several others, so I have absolutely no clue how much this one is or where the hell it is located. I know there are more than two people living there and they are fine with having my psycho cat. So, what's the worse that could happen? They could be canibals. Hmm... If I come back to CT with a large bite taken out of my thigh don't ask me how that happened.

So I'm trying to sort out the apartment thing, I still need to find a job/student loans/financial aid/sugar mama, but other than that I'm pretty fine. If I can keep these balls in the air I'll be happy. Everything else? Fuck it. I just want some place to call bed. I have roughly a half month to find a couple of crappy jobs and once I get my deposite back from this apartment I'll be perfectly fine for a while.

Just need to relax. Things will fall into place. If not then I'll deal with whatever happens. I don't get the apartment or I don't get finacial aid, then I'll just figure something else out. I'll go work either in the City or I'll stay in CT and work at some place that's not a library, or I'll apply for a better library job, one that doesn't suck my soul. In the end it will all work out, just I don't know what I will look like when it's over. Fun times ahead!