I Can’t Even
So the next portion of the dating guide hasn’t been written. This is because, in the last two days, my life has turned into a nightmare. For the third time in two years, I have found a bedbug in my apartment. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.
I like to have things a certain way. I like to have my apartment in a state of consistent, manageable disorder, and write for an hour or two in the morning, and fuck around on the computer for a couple of hours in the afternoon, or otherwise run errands, and socialize in the evening.
I like to feel like my apartment is safe and secure. I do not appreciate having to change plans at the last minute because all of a sudden my apartment has gone fucking Chernobyl. I do not appreciate finding myself more or less homeless.
Tomorrow I am going to have to buy deodorant at a drugstore and apply it in the bathroom of a public library.
This is my life now.
So at the moment I am fairly unglued, and if this is making any sense at all, that is a miracle. Because it is 12:35 AM, I am outside of my mind, and I have to wake up in less than seven hours.
I will write more when I can.