You know I usually avoid blogging twice in a row and wasting your time, but I thought my story of yesterday was worthy of the space.
I was scheduled to move into my new apartment at 10 yesterday morning, or that's what they said when they called to reschedule my move-in time. I woke up at 7 and finally got out of bed at 8, getting some things packed but realizing that most everything would have to wait until after I checked into my apartment and signed the lease and all that. I managed to throw several boxes and suit cases in my car sometime near 9:45, and so I left my brother's house, no longer a resident. It didn't occur to me at the time as any sort of omen or prophetic notion, but I did manage to hit most every light on my way to the apartment, and so I showed up at 9:58 in a bit of a frantic mood. Of all things, I didn't want to make a bad first impression. The apartment office was eerily dark, but the open/close sign was on open, and their normal operating hours on Saturday start at 9. I knocked, stood in the rain and the cold for a few minutes, looked closer at the door and noticed a sign. It said the office wouldn't open until 12 because of the Easter holiday. I was a little confused but assumed that simply meant that they wouldn't staff the office, but of course they wouldn't have me show up two hours early when they weren't going to be there. I called the office and left a message. I got cold and wet and angry. Sometime before 10:30 I got in my car and started reading, because thankfully my backpack was right beside me and I'm starting out Camus' Myth of Sisyphus, so I read about philosophical and physical suicide, about Shopenhauer and Kierkegaard and Chertov and Husserl, and then I got cold in my car. It was only in the thirties out here. So I drove to the nearest grocery store where I assumed there'd be a Starbucks, but there wasn't a sign outside saying there was a Starbucks, so I just kept going to find the closest coffee place to warm up at.
I ended up about two blocks from work at a tiny coffee place. I drank my chai and read more Camus, and noticed that one of the workers had hair like Rachel Martin, only darker. By 11:30 I got hungry and went over to my store. My poor boss was being chewed out by some tire technician, and so I ate quietly in the corner, and then read for a few minutes. As the clock neared 12, I cleaned up and got in my car, just to notice my phone vibrating in my pocket. Couldn't open it fast enough, but it was my apartment complex. I drove back, which took less than five minutes. All was good, right. I'll just move in and be happy.
Well, then I asked to switch my lease from a year to six months, and in doing so lost over a hundred bucks in incentive money, but that wasn't the worst of it. Suddenly, instead of not needing a dime with me on the move in day (as it had said on a slip I was given after paying a move-in fee earlier), I owed the entire rent for May (because I don't make enough money for them to trust me to pay my rent). The problem is that I don't even have a working checkbook any longer because, really, who writes checks. Get with the times, you Amish freaks. So I had to drive to my nearest credit union locale and get a cashier's check, and then drive back. It was nearing one o'clock. Finally, I'm paid and I've got my keys and parking permit and a move-in sheet. I'm ready for home.
I pulled up to my parking space, and of course somebody's car was there. Not unreasonable, just unhelpful. Oh well. Then I got into my apartment. Through the front door there was a door that seemed off center and very strangely set. I thought it was a hall closet. It turned out to be my bathroom. Something seemed odd about it. My bathroom was like a cathedral, echoing with my footsteps and seeming terribly empty. It needs a washer and dryer to fill it out, anyway. Oh well. Then I ventured into my living room. The heater had no cover. Actually, none of the heaters in the house had covers, and the one in the kitchen was missing. Great. And then my kitchen counter-top seemed strange. Half of it was cut and lowered. I would have to kneel down to make any use of this space. It suddenly occured to me where I was. I was in a handicapped accessible unit. The giant door, the empty space between the toilet and bathtub, the lowered countertop, the missing heater covers. Actually, that was just because somebody forgot to put them back on, and I apparently don't have a heater in the kitchen. Or the heater is called the oven. Fine. That's fine. Oh, and my giant misplaced bathroom door can't fully open, instead it runs into the hallway wall, as well as it swings out. It wasn't until this morning that I discovered the final strike against me. My showerhead sits square with my chin. You can always get a good shower from a shower head at any good height above you, but resolving the issue of having the shower head too low is not a similar issue. So, all that to say, my excitement about moving into my own aparment has been significantly diminished over the past 24 hours. But I'm really glad I decided on the 6-month lease. So, I've got another move to look forward to. This one is by Halloween. Yeah.
In other news, a certain Crown professor has yet to call me or e-mail me or comment on here about getting ahold of a certain Crown alum about a certain Crown wedding with a certain dance... need I further myself here or shall I simply call again? Ah, I haven't gotten to talk to her in a week or so, so I guess it's no big deal. I'll just leave you with one thought: Most philosophers die alone, most accountants die rich, and most dogs die happy. I guess you need a degree for accounting. Goodbye, all. I'm going home to my giant doors and lowered shower head. Struggle is good. But so is ease every once in a while. I'm really going now.