Yesterday in a fit of dissatisfaction I tore the apartment apart and put most of it back together.

The result: a re-arranged kitchen that allows me to have my mixer out and the crock pot not on Ed’s desk, and more room for chopping than I had before. I also took down the Christmas tree, moved the bicycles out of the spare room and back into the living room, gathered up two enormous bags of laundry to be taken into the ‘mat, and cleaned out the fridge.

Apparently, I am incredibly productive on two hours of sleep. Sure, I burst into frustrated tears at least twice, but I’m pretty pleased with the result. The living room needs to be handled tonight; most of the Christmas stuff is still in a pile behind my desk but I am confident that I can have this place looking organized again by tomorrow and then we can spend the weekend messing it up again.

I’m actually going to leave the house today, though. I have an interview this afternoon, we’re out of cat food, I want some more tiny ninjas, the laundry must be fetched, and I need to pick up some tasty bread to go with the stew currently crocking.

It’s a damn good thing it’s not nice outside, because when faced with all this disgustingly adult responsibility all I want to do is pack the car full of computers and clean underwear and drive off into the distance.

I need to start a countdown to spring, or something. I would much rather be out having adventures on my scooter than doing all this other stuff. Plus, I feel much more boring than usual and it’s giving me a complex. Where’s the fun? It’s not at the Laundromat, that’s for sure.

Wish me luck today! I still haven’t heard back from the other interview I had before Christmas, and I really kinda want that job so here’s hoping I get some sort of news either way soon because waiting is giving me wrinkles.

And ass marbles.

But mostly wrinkles.