I'm four days into my lease with zero days spent in the house. Paying rent to not live somewhere is something like having a storage unit, an expensive storage unit. A storage unit that only holds three boxes of books, a box of CDs and two jackets.
I have yet to find a day when I can convince or bribe someone to help me move my bed. As much as I like to think of myself as the resident strong-man, I cannot carry a queen size box spring up a flight of stairs. I hope to move in tomorrow. If my father won't help, I will bribe Mark with Moscow Mules. Something about vodka and ginger wins him over more quickly than money.
Expecting to move today, I went shopping for the few necessities I did not yet have. As it turns out, Super Target does not sell luffas. If they do, they hide them. I usually like retail Easter Eggs. I like them less when I actually need them. Children were screaming while I was trying to shop. I don't think it makes me heartless to dislike children. Of course, if they are kin, that is a whole different matter. Kin changes everything.
Five weeks into class and my enthusiasm hasn't wavered. I am inclined to believe this means I have finally moved out from behind the aegis of apathy. Now I am accountable for my failures: too many to list, too ignoble to recount. I hope to not add to that list this year.
I suppose I need to finally move into my new home and complete a semester of college before I start making stump speeches about change. Nothing has changed yet except for the season.
"I get up every morning determined to both change the world and have one hell of a good time. Sometimes this makes planning my day difficult." - E.B. White
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