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Saturday, June 04, 2005

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let's move again!

F'n Jon. So we've been finding all these little things wrong with the place... big things were that the dishwasher didn't work, and there's no microwave. Now I may sound stupid saying "where's my microwave" but it's one of them built-in-vent-fan-things and so there's a fatty hole in the cabinet area and wires and shit poking everywhere. It's fucking ugly. And there's no microwave. Move in was the 1st. They say it'll be in by Monday. If it's not I'll be pissed. If there wasn't an overlap from here to there like there is, I would have broken all hell. I'm out of it. Excuse my retarded way of writing words into text. Shut up.

So we go and tell them the things that are wrong... rattling fan, spider eggs EVERYWHERE on the patio, storage door sticks, screen doors don't shut all the way, screen doors don't lock, nails popping up from the floor boards, fruit flies everywhere, shit like that... and the maintenance guy (who happens to be the husband of the property manager...) gives Jon these smart little remarks like "well, you can just do this..." as if it's our problem to fix. So ofcourse Jon is irritated. Guess who wants to move again? Right. Jon. So in a year Jon wants to move. Fuck that. I wanted some stuff moved yesterday and he was going to the new place with David. I asked him to move some boxes I've packed (I'm reusing all my boxes again, and that's like 8 of them, so I gotta pack, unpack, and bring them back and start again) and I said "your car can't handle it, do you want mine?" he says "no... I don't think so." And he doesn't move half of the boxes. Says he didn't notice. Seems he never hears what I say. This moving thing is pissing me off. There's so much shit in the house and I have to move it all since 98% of it's mine and I need to know where it is. Jon keeps doing this retarded we're-in-a-movie thing and saying "it'll be good. It'll be good." (yes, twice.) and holding out his arms as if the camera will pan out and we'll embrace and happy music will come on and life will fast foward and we'll be happy. Whatever... this is real and I have to deal with the shit of moving, he just has his papers sprawled out everywhere in the fucking living room and doesn't touch them. Piece of shit I hate this. I need to go wash all our linens today so they'll be clean for the new place. Jon wants our comforter washed (it's pretty nasty... the corners of the insert poke out of the cover and they drag on the floor when midget me carries it and they're all yellow and black... so grody) and ofcourse I'm sure it'll never get done if he does it so I'm going ahead and doing it. I want this new place to have all clean shit. That doesn't make sense. God damn it Betty shut up.

1:31 PM


wow ... breathe

Posted by Umm tasty!! on Sunday, June 05, 2005 at 12:22 AM

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