Saturday, March 01, 2008Oh! Hey!
I almost forgot -- today is this blog's fourth birthday! Jesus f-ing Christ, not even I can believe how much absolute horseshit I've pecked out in four years. This is my 1,097th post, and I'm less than 20 hits away from 80,000. So start hitting "refresh," damn you! I want to get to 80K before the day is over!
I'm going to see some people about a room in north portland tomorrow -- an easy walk to the MAX and about four major bus lines, walking distance to a good supermarket, and a quick bike ride to beautiful N. Mississippi Ave. It's a good-sized room with its own bathroom (sweet!), a doggy in the house, and all for less than what I'm paying now. And the couple who own it sound really cool, too.
There's a catch, of course. And that catch will be squeezed out into the world through the female half of the couple's vagina in late August. I don't quite know what to expect from sharing a house with an infant -- it could be absolutely the worst, stupidest thing ever, or it could be okay. Apparently the room is on the ground floor, and 3 AM crying fests would be taking place on the upper floor, so it's not like it would be in my face. On the other hand, it's a baby. And I'm me. And I don't have any problem with babies, don't really find them too bothersome, don't even particularly mind the smell or the constant presence of moisture... but I'm me. Which is to say, not exactly the most naturally maternal person in the world. But it's not like it would be my baby, and I wouldn't be responsible for it, or at least no more responsible than any functioning adult is responsible for any babies that happen to be nearby. Though I'll probably need to make sure we're all clear on that when I meet them tomorrow.
Still, a baby can't possibly be worse than living with Ulrika the borderline-retarded Swedish housework nazi. At least a baby won't try to order me around (and I'd like to see it try.)
Advice from baby-veterans would be very welcome.
And I've been incredibly tired this last week -- dragging myself out of bed every morning, in spite of a solid eight or nine hours of sleep. I don't feel bad otherwise, so I don't think it's an impending illness; but I'm always so sleepy. I need to take one of my days off this week and just stay in my room napping. Maybe that would put me right. |