Moving Day, almost
So I might have mentioned that I needed to move. Did I mention that the teenage boy below me is a monster who must listen to Eminem at deafening levels with maximum bass? That's why I had to move. But after a solid month's worth of responding to Craigslist ads, visiting stranger's apartments, and donating much excess stuff to Goodwill I decided not to move houses. I love my roommates. I like my house (1890s charms like no insulation and faulty wiring aside). I don't want to move. So I'm moving rooms! Jesse will take my palatial room with the two closets (one walk-in) and I'll move into her smaller, pinker, but blessedly quiet room. I suspect my writing productivity will increase (can you writer fewer than zero pages--well, I suppose there's the old editing trick of removing written ones, so sure) post-move.
Someday later when I'm far enough removed to laugh at the situation I'll write a compilation of shorts on the whole interviewing with roommates situation. Plenty of story potential. Plenty.
For now, I just have to move everything in this room down the hall. This would be easier if it was not 90 degrees with 90 percent humidity now. I keep staring at my walls and thinking, "I should take those photos down and put them in a box." And yet, I'm not moving....Inertia. It's truly compelling sometimes.