Night of Glory

So basically, my apartment is a bachelor pad and rules above all other apartments and/or bachelor pads. At least, if giant messes of strewn about clothes and boxes and miscellaneous crap equate to ruling.

The walls are blank and the smell of fresh paint lingers everywhere. It bothers most people, but I'm so used to it I don't even really notice it until someone points it out. The carpets were still damp from a fresh cleaning, but that wasn't going to stop me.

Armed with the Herculean abilities of Chaos' girlfriend, I was able to unload most of my stuff in no time at all. I still need to get some essentials that I forgot...dishwasher detergent, a shower curtain (even though the bath with ramen noodle dinner combo was interesting), some more hangers.

There's a lot to do and not much time to do it in. After forking over many hundreds of dollars to get the apartment, I'll have spent a couple hundred in gas for transporting back and forth. That's not mentioning school, which just cost me nearly four hundred for textbooks. This first month is really going to suck as far as the dollar is concerned, but ultimately once I get settled in a routine it'll be worth it.

I'm pretty disappointed with my semester grades. To elaborated, I did worse this last semester than I've ever done...ever. This isn't a good time for failure, with my trying to get into a new school. These are my most recent grades and my worst, naturally what the schools will be noticing. I know I can do well this semester, but that doesn't help me as a future international...to get North I have to apply basically a semester in advance. So even if I do well this semester and send off these grades, I'll be stuck with another useless semester this fall or out of school. Being out isn't even really an option; that lets my sister's father drop me on child support. I have too many medical bills to let that happen. Ironically, I had a doctor's appointment the other day, and I guess his number is on file and not mine, so they just left him the message that my depakote readings were really high and that I needed to call immediately. He's called leaving messages about every day since...think he's worried, if not for me that something would happen and I could say that he never told me. It's just that my medication needs to be reduced, but I'll let him sweat a little.

I thought that these upcoming classes would be a breeze. Astronomy should be a lot of fun, but then again, I thought Geology was a ton of fun and only got a C. I figured I'd know most of the material, but looking through the books, there's some pretty complicated shit. Programming might be a bigger bitch than I thought. The other course is apparently just messing with operating systems and garbage like MS Office, so the hardest part about that will be forcing myself to read such boring useless bullshit.

I start work Sunday night at seven. I'm glad I know this, since I lost my work schedule and have no idea when I'm supposed to work after that. I need a new job, desperately. I'd take almost anything that's not edibles. I say almost, because I worked a lovely seven hour shift for a survey company. As enlightening as it was as to why never to trust a survey (we falsified about 95%+ of them), it wasn't exactly something someone who's not an optimist should do. Oh, and they never paid me. They asked me to come back, but I nicely informed them I don't work for free, because it's sort of illegal to count someone as an employee and have them work for you but not pay them. Ah well, seven hours for around fifty imaginary dollars won't break me.

The momdroid still doesn't know I'll be rooming with Chaos. The landlady brought up his name, but I was able to make the save with a swift interjection of oh yeah, mum, so-n-so here is his girlfriend. I was in the clear for a while, but then apparently after a little bit to think about it, the droid turns to me and says, he won't be staying here will he? I said no. Because he won't be for at least another month. That gives me time to make up some excuse, which will probably just entail saying his girlfriend talked me into it. My mom will try to argue and throw a bitchfit, but let her. I'm living with him, not her, she can stay the fuck out and then she won't have to see him. Plus, anything she THINKS he's ever done, I'm a potential jailbird who's caused at least two people to shed blood. There's nothing he's done that is worse than the events comprising my sordid little adventures. If she hates him, she can't logically say that I'm any less deserving of any less hatred.

At least he's doing something in the army. I'm a third year university student (if you could even call me a student) without anything approaching even an associate's degree to show for it.

No friend friends, no significant other, no good grades, no degrees, no good job, really, I'm just a fucking drain on people right now. That's not pessimism or anything, just an honest truth. I did better in school the semester I was ingesting ungodly amounts of certain things that may not be "legal." Yet. Outside of Amsterdam. Without a prescription. And that's really lame...so I'm bound and determined to be a good little student this semester. There are no distractions here that I don't have control over. Computer shit, movies, whatever, that's all under my control here. No bastard roommate in a one-room cell. Anything that happens now is because either I made it happen or I allowed it to happen; there aren't excuses anymore.

Hm. Strangely, in a night of glory, I feel more alone than I have in a long time.