I have a house to move into! Yay!
I just un-made someone's day with amazing precision! Boo!
After my first batch of potential housing situations mostly fell through, I started looking for apartments with someone I'd met and felt ambivalent about -- she seemed perfectly fine but was looking for a pretty different housing situation than I (find a new apartment together, just you and me, right in around here, versus find a house full of people over here or there or maybe over there). I was openly hesitant, she gave notice at her current place, I remained hesitant, and I continued to eye houses (full of people and over there).
And then I found a house! Full of people! Over there! And the people seem neat and the house old and quirky, and most importantly, everyone but me is already moved in and I can ship my boxes and arrive in a state of non-panic. I took it -- Mama didn't raise no fool (at least not more than one). And I was upfront and un-passive-aggressive and called the other girl right away to tell her I wouldn't be living with her, even though that's more or less my definition of the most terrifying possible use of the telephone. And her day was quite clearly not made by the news. If her day were a bed, the sheets would be rumpled, the pillows flattened and flung everywhere, and the covers would be sliding onto the floor. If her day were breakfast, the eggs would still be runny and the waffle iron wouldn't even be warm. If her day were a mafioso, Fat Tony wouldn't even offer it a cigar, much less call it Bambino and invite it to the VIP table.
My punishment for disappointing people is evidently to have my back move into its itchy stage today. It itches like, to give the metaphors and similes a break for a moment, a large and densely colored 3-day-old tattoo. A large and densely colored 3-day-old tattoo which will soon be living in Portland!Posted by dianna at June 24, 2007 06:06 PM