Muse For Hire

So, I get a call earlier in the week from the office saying it's time for the yearly unit inspection.

Sadly this didn't mean ogling hot naked guys. Bummer.

So I spent this week slowly giving my apartment a cleaning, although I didn't go ALL out. I figured they were just looking for physical damage: mold, carpet stains, head-shaped holes in the walls, tape outlines of bodies on the floor--y'know, the usual. So I cleaned up and put on pants this evening to wait for the nice lady to come by.

So she did. I gave her a small laundry list of issues I'd been having. And then she beams at me and announces that they'd like me to stay on. Yay! They like me! They didn't hear about that...thing. This is good! So she pulls out a lease renewal form and I get a kick to the gut. We're talking rabid-mule-on-Red-Bull kick too.

See, I was ecstatic about this apartment when I found it. Gorgeous place, awesome entry deal of $549! Wicked cool! And I've gotten in on good deals on all my apartments really. But in all my other apartments, my rent went up a small percentage based on what I signed on for. These people, however...that deal has an expiration date. You get one year at the awesome rate. ONE. And then you get to pay what everyone else is paying.

My rent is going up $100 a month. CHRIST.

And I don't have a choice. I do not have the money or the mental stability for another move. So I'll kiss my beautiful savings good-bye and pay it. But goddammit, if they fuck me over again next year...

You know what? I'm just gonna find some rich old fuck to marry. Hey, Hef is single again, right?

[Poll #1581463]

Seriously. I'm trying to downsize my apartment to make it more moveable, and my bed issue IRKS me so. I want to get rid of both my headboard/frame and my small mirrored chest-of-drawers. The chest-of-drawers can easily be replaced by one of those plastic three-drawer things they sell at Wal-mart, which hopefully will fit in my closet once I get rid of everything in it. I don't like my bed because I'm too alert to every creak and groan bed frames inevitably make. I was thinking about getting a low bed frame, and then I got to thinking--I have a box spring. Do I even need a bed frame? I can get a cute contrast fitted sheet to cover the box spring, even set the whole mess upon a nice area rug to save the apartment carpet. I can get big ass pillows to make a mock headboard. I'm fairly sure I can make a very presentable presentation. ^_^

And no more fucking monster under the bed problem. Fuck you, Tug. >:|

P.S. ...I may or may not have watched $100 Makeover this weekend. 6_6

P.S.S. DUDE. I changed "probably" to "problem" before I posted. Why does it still say "probably"??? GRR. ARGH.

I'm going back to school.

Going to take the paralegal courses.

Going to be in debt for the next TEN YEARS, but I have to do something.

I can't keep on this course. I can't keep relying on wistful little dreams that let me lie to myself for the past fifteen years. I'm not going to be a published writer--and even if I am, I will never be a successful one. Not the kind that can live off their books. That was the one that landed me with a useless English degree. It didn't matter what I did in high school or college--I was going to be a WRITER. I never even thought ahead to my thirties--I was going to have bestsellers by the time I was 25.

Now I'm 33 and as I said a couple of months ago, it is time to grow the fuck up.

I don't have any retirement plans financially. I don't have a savings account to speak of. I have $200. That's it. And my paychecks, which disappear like water in a desert.

I need a career. I need to not only plan for the soon future but farther off. I don't want to be a 70-year-old lady working clerical duties because there's no such thing as Social Security in 2046 and I have heart medicine to pay for.

Of course, 2046 could be a post-Apocalyptic future in which I'm leading the Resistance against alien robot zombies, but it's probably better to assume 2046 is going to be full of the same boring bullshit as 2009.

I rather like legal work. I like research. I like being a support function. Lawyers are everywhere and I don't see them going anywhere or doing their own work, so it's a job with more of a future than fucking DATA ENTRY. I think the paralegal thing will be good.

Classes start Monday. I have financial aid to fill out tonight. I am going to be a wee mad bundle of stress for the next 11.5 months, and I doubt you'll hear much from me other than freaked out screamy rants. Monday through Thursday, 6-9 in the evenings on top of 8 hours at work? Oh, Bonnie is going to have SO much screen time in my brain this next year.