The major issue that people who read this seem to be hung up on is: So did your landlord rethink his rabbit policy? And what kills about that is: Yes, did he did. Don't get out your pom-poms yet. Don't pump your fist into the air in righteous victory. Stay with me. As Brett and I are separating (not just in the housing sense) and I am currently looking for an apartment that is within my price range, but does not require me to stand in the "shower" while washing my face, or "look at other people," also known as "roommates," the rabbit thing is currently a non-issue. This is making me, to say the least, sad.
Other things making me sad, to varying degrees:
1. Yes, I know my name was mispelled in the Wall Street Journal. This has the slight effect of, when looking at the article, making me feel like I am not really me or that person being mentioned is not truly the same one as the one holding the paper, but in my heart of hearts, I know that is total bullshit and that I am just hyper-sensitive because this break-up is also revealing itself to be bullshit as well, which is tougher than it being warranted.
2. When I called on an apartment the other day the landlord told me, "Well, there's a girl who says she's taking it and she has 24 hours, so it might be gone. But you should call back tomorrow because, well...You know how women are. You KNOW how women are." I made some sort of gutteral sound in response just because I was trying to think through 1. If I did sound like a particularly knowing person on the phone. 2. If, for some weird reason, this landlord who didn't know me would rather that I get the apartment because I sound like a "different breed" of woman. A decisive breed? 3. How unbelievably weird it was that this landlord was saying this to me if he actually wanted to rent to me. That gutteral response was neither a yay nor a nay, but just sort of a, "Meghghghg, I'll call you tomorrow." When I hung up the phone I realized that the answer could only be 4. The landlord believed that I was male. This made me sad not because I mind my voice being mistaken for male, but because this confirms that there is all this creepy "You know how girls are" talk still going on in the world during clandestine conversations that I will never hear unless I am being mistaken for something I am not.
3. This was taken last night and, to me, says volumes about the delusions induced by brainwork gone awry.
