This blog often contains uncomfortable subject matter and occasional sexual content. If you don't want to read about it, empower yourself to close the page. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- YAY I got the apartment! I'm signing the lease on Saturday. I have to drive to the next county over to clean out my savings account so I can pay the deposits. I'm meeting the landlord at the bank to sign the lease. Oh I am so excited. Also I am pretty sure at this point that I've come down with some energy-draining virus. I am 90% certain that this is due to stress. But whatever, because I am getting a bitchin' new apartment. 11:16 p.m. - 2010-05-20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- New apartment! (hopefully?) In addition to the eyelid flutter that I get when I'm stressed, and the thumping noise I've been hearing in my ear for the last couple of weeks, I think I am coming down with a cold, or strep throat or something. God I hate moving. On the plus side, I found a two-bedroom for the same price I'm paying for my one-bedroom. I'm going to turn the extra bedroom into a craft room! The apartment has a full kitchen, separated from the living room, complete with a pantry and lots of cabinets! I could even fit a small table in there. The living room is big enough for a full size couch, and a loveseat, and maybe even an armchair. There's a hallway with a closet, and the bathroom has a real medicine cabinet, unlike the crappy little cubby-hole thing I've got in my current bathroom. The smaller bedroom (craft room) has a walk-in closet. I'm going to use it to store yarn, and various other craft supplies. I'm going to set up a sewing table and start machine sewing again. I am going to make curtains for every room in the house. I'll put a comfy chair in there to crochet in, and make rugs and lace curtains, and afghans for the bed and couch. Maybe a table cloth, if I get a kitchen table. Oh my god, I am so excited about all of the decor I'm going to make for this place. The bigger bedroom will of course be mine (and BK's, before he moves in with his band). There's no walk-in closet, just a regular closet with sliding doors. But since I'll have all of my craft stuff in the other closet, I can actually hang clothes in this one! Maybe I can get rid of that shitty dresser KG loaned me. Some downsides: The utilities will be about forty bucks more each month. Also, it's in the "student ghetto" which means there will be noise and parties, and drunk assholes wandering the streets, yelling WOOOO! Also, BK told me that there is an increased likelihood that my apartment could get broken into. But there's off-street parking. And lots of space for my cats to run around. Maybe they'll lose some weight. At least A will have room to escape from B. I'm going to leave the craft room open as long as they don't mess with my stuff, and they can run from one room to the other. There will be room for two litter boxes, so maybe the apartment won't smell like piss all the time! Plus, BK's still thinking about moving in with me if his friend L moves to town. He'd give him his room in the band house. Alternatively, if BK still doesn't have a job, L could be my room mate, if I decide that I need help with the rent. If I get a room mate, my rent will only be two hundred fifty dollars. I could afford to work part time at a shitty retail job, instead of working full time at a shitty office job! Also, BK got an interview set up for Monday! I'm kind of doubting they'll hire him. He has a tendency to be too honest during interviews, and he's been fired from his last two jobs. Even if they do hire him, he's probably not going to pass the drug test. I don't care how much faith he has in that stupid flush drink, I was clean for six days when I drank that stuff and I barely passed. Still, I'm keeping my fingers crossed. If he gets this job, they'll give him paid training, and he'll get his CDL. If he gets a CDL that opens up so many opportunities for him, and he could make lots of money. He could support me for a change (though I doubt he actually would). 5:34 p.m. - 2010-05-20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I think I broke a blood vessel Anyone reading this who is squeamish or easily disturbed will want to hit the "back" button right about now. There's a spot on my right breast that I've been picking for a very long time, possibly more than a year. It doesn't heal because I keep picking at it. I leave it alone for a few days or weeks, and it fills up with whatever it is that ends up in a clogged pore. When it looks "ready" I squeeze it between my thumb and index fingernails, and when it pops, it's so satisfying. Something has gone wrong this time. A few days ago, I noticed that there was a red patch surrounding this pore. The skin was tender and swollen, and I could see little veins underneath it. I was curious and gave it a light squeeze between my fingers, using very little pressure, and then forced myself to leave it alone. A while later, I had taken my shirt off for some reason, and BK noticed the spot, and said, "That looks mad." I looked down and it had turned purple, and had turned into a raised bump. I guess I busted a blood vessel or something? I couldn't leave it alone after that. Once something gets inflamed, I feel such a strong urge to try to pop it. I mess with it and mess with it until it comes to a head. This one wouldn't pop, though. It just got bigger, and turned into a bruise. It's about a centimeter in diameter, purple on the inside, and yellow around the edges. If I so much as run my finger over it, it gets inflamed and turns into a hard, raised bump. The swelling doesn't go down for hours. Tonight, I couldn't take it. It was freaking me out. I had to drain the blood, I couldn't stand it. I punctured it with a pin. It didn't hurt. I couldn't feel it. The first couple of spots I stuck the pin in weren't the right spots, apparently. It wouldn't drain, it just got more inflamed. I stuck it in somewhere closer to the middle. It drained a little, but not enough. It was still full of blood that didn't seem to want to drain. Then I was struck by the horrifying realization of the reality of the situation. I was sitting on my bed, puncturing the skin on my breast with a pin. I forced myself to leave it at that. I went to the bathroom and cleaned it off, and put a band-aid on it. I looked in the mirror at all of the marks I've made recently, on my face, my shoulders, and my breasts. I felt so ashamed of what I had done to myself, I started crying. I feel so out of control. 11:45 p.m. - 2010-05-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bitter tonight Is it sad that when BK says he'll be home "soon" I assume he means in no less than three hours? Or when he says he'll be home at midnight, I don't expect him home until 3:00 am? Or that when he says he'll call to tell me when he's going to be late, or to tell me whether or not he's decided to come home or tag along with his friends to their next destination, I assume that he'll forget to call? What's sadder is that I don't usually say anything to him about it. 11:08 p.m. - 2010-05-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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