Waiting for My Real Life to Begin

The life and times of a girl named Swishy.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

I'm melllllllting

So, good girl that I am, I got home, ate dinner, tore myself away from The Hills and went to work out. I put in almost 45 minutes on the elliptical, got all nice and sweaty and came home to my nice, cool apartment to do some crunches and maybe take a rewarding bubble bath.

Nice, huh? Except that, instead of coming home to crunches and baths, I came home to a broken air conditioner. AOL tells me it's 87 degrees outside. It's approximately 137 degrees in my apartment. I have done exactly nothing in the hour I've been home and am now sitting in my underwear in the living room trying to get some air from the ceiling fan in the kitchen (which, by the way, looks like it's going to fall off the ceiling, it's rotating so fast). I need to take out the trash, but that would require putting on clothing, which would require more energy than it's taking to type, which is impossible given the fact that the broken air conditioner has sucked the life, if not the soul, right out of me.

I freaking hate my apartment. This is the second time already this year the air's been broken. I sooo need to move.

BUT ... it could be worse. My friend calls me on my way home from the gym: "How was your day?"
I sigh. "I don't know. Fine. How was yours?"
"Fine," she says, "except that I'm raising a sociopath."

I died. I absolutely died. I swear I didn't stop laughing for, like, 20 minutes. If you knew her 4-year-old, you'd be laughing, too.

"Good, you laugh," she says. "I'll be out counting the cats in the neighborhood, just in case."


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