Work Sucks; I know

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All has been rather quiet on the apartment front. I say this, of course, while rapidly hamming my fist on the closest available wooden surface. [Львица] and I have been doing apartment showings, trying to convince people that our apartment building is awesome and a great location on campus. And no, sir, there are no pests (Mouse? What's a mouse?) and the noise from the interstate isn't bad (ha, it sounds like a fucking Transformer is out there, 24/7), and really, living in the basement apartments is cheaper in the long run (even if if does look a bit like you're taking residence in something from The Shining). So we're fibbing a bit; welcome to corporate America.

[Львица] recently found out she's gotten accepted for a study abroad program in Russia over the summer, for which she should be celebrated and congratulated. However, I will miss her very much, both as a friend and a roommate. And I will miss her saying, when something nuts happens in the apartment, "I don't want to be here when the walls start to bleed." Trust me, [Львица], if the walls start bleeding while you are abroad, you will be the first to know.

Since [Львица] is going abroad, one of our current tenants - and a former high school classmate of ours - is taking up the reins as building manager. However, I've been doing more building related stuff this semester, which is cool because it makes me feel like a bad-ass adult.

Except for today. Today, I thought, was supposed to be the annual housing fair in the student union. I got semi-dressed up, lugged my computer along, got all the rental applications, and prepared to sell the building to the best of my abilities. Now, I'd been having weird dreams that I'd missed the housing fair or I couldn't find it or the usual stupid bullshit one's brain produces when they're planning on an upcoming event. And so when I walked into the student union and saw no one around the Great Hall and walked in there and realized they were setting up for an event with the Black Student Union, I sort of panicked.

I whipped out my computer, cursed the slow wi-fi on campus, and checked the email account we'd set up for the apartment building. And realized my mistake. One email sent by the building owner said that the housing fair was Tuesday, March 1st. March 1st is today, a Thursday. I figured that he must have made a typo. Another email, one that I apparently didn't pay enough attention to said that the housing fair was Tuesday, March 6th. Clearly this must be the case. Because I'm in the Union now and it sure as hell isn't today.

I was furious about this: partly because I wore a dress and dragged a heavy backpack with me across an icy, snow-covered campus for this. Partly because the building owner gave me two different dates for the event. And mostly because I'm just mad at myself for not double checking and being more prepared.

In my defense, I have been writing the hardest research paper I've ever encountered and it's making my loathe being a psych major. And I've had a general ennui about life that only broke the other day when I decided I sort-of, kind-of know what I want to do with my life. And it's sad to admit, but it's goddamn hard to care about this job when I'm making minimum wage, working infrequently, dealing with repair men who either seem incompetent and make me lose faith in humanity or are very kind and supportive but tell me I should get the hell out of Dodge before this building comes down around me.

Not that it's all bad. I've learned a ton while working here. I've gotten a great resume booster and the building owner has agreed to be a reference for me on an internship application that I'm filling out. It's just... hard, hard when you see these brand new luxury apartments being built and watch the glitz and glamor of the Oscars on TV while you're living in an old brownstone with bad plumbing eating pasta and peanut butter (not together... God, that would be terrible). I'm just tired of being a college student. I think that's what it comes down to. Someday, I'll look back at this job and laugh and smile and be so glad I took it. But that day is not today. So I'm going to sit here and starve (since I didn't bring a snack since I thought I'd be working and am too cheap to buy something to eat) and recklessly daydream and try not to give a shit about anything for a few minutes. Because right now, caring hurts.