For the next 8 months, at least, I am working for a very cool company that has put me up in my own apartment.
This, my friends, is a huge step into adulthood.
I am living alone. In an apartment built for one. ONE HUMAN. That's me. just me.
Let me walk you through my first night alone:
I start home, exhausted from a day of running around DC, hair flat with dampness, covered in an inescapable film of moisture due to the humidity here. It's not sweat--it's just... moist. Looking forward to having the apartment all to myself. Officially!
I'll take a shower... I'll relax... it'll be a great evening.
I could get some work done by looking through the equity regulations, I could research graduate programs for my future, I could write the next great American novel. But no. Gosh darn it! this is my first night as a real, true, living-alone grown up. I'm going to just chill.
It takes me approximately 4 minutes to shower. So I take another shower. and I leave the door open, because no one else lives here, so I can. Ha! Then after my indulgent 5 minutes later, I'm squeaky clean. It's only 8:00.
now what?
After 3 episodes of 30 rock on netflix, I decide it would be a smart, grown-up decision to prepare for tomorrow morning by getting breakfast.
My very posh, very urban apartment is right on top of the hippest bar in town, only two blocks away from my work, and no where near a grocery store.
My only options are a CVS and a vegan market place.
I opt for the CVS cause I guess it'll be cheaper. Plus I need milk, and I can't remember the rules of veganism, and don't want to risk it.
Looking at my breakfast options, I suddenly feel like a kid, cause I really want some sugary cereal. I pause, because the little voice in my head--namely my mother-- is reminding me of the evils of sugary cereal.
But hey--I have my OWN apartment now, conscience. I'm a real, live, grown up. I can buy whatever I want! And I want some Fruit Loops.
3 boxes of cereal (not all fruit loops), and a quarter gallon of milk later, I owe $26 dollars! #citylife
So I pour myself the most expensive bowl of cereal known to mankind. Then I pour as many bowls until my milk runs out. It's not that I'm the least bit hungry, of course, but after tonight, those crisp, colorful circles will be mushy Os because of the humidity.
Have I mentioned it's humid here?
It is now 9:20 pm (or 6:20 pm if you're in Pacific Standard Time, which is from where I just moved).
Perhaps a total of 5 minutes of cereal indulgence later, I enjoy the activities on the back of the box. Did you know that there are answers and more activities on the inside of cereal boxes??
9:32 pm.
Am I tired yet?
Eventually I resign to doing something productive: cleaning the kitchen. there's only 2 dishes on the drying rack, I'll put them back in the cupboards.
"eiw! this plate is disgusting. who washed this?" I say out loud, to no one of course. Turns out, I washed it. cause I'm the only one living here. Have I mentioned that?
Oy.
I need a roommate.
This, my friends, is a huge step into adulthood.
I am living alone. In an apartment built for one. ONE HUMAN. That's me. just me.
Let me walk you through my first night alone:
I start home, exhausted from a day of running around DC, hair flat with dampness, covered in an inescapable film of moisture due to the humidity here. It's not sweat--it's just... moist. Looking forward to having the apartment all to myself. Officially!
I'll take a shower... I'll relax... it'll be a great evening.
I could get some work done by looking through the equity regulations, I could research graduate programs for my future, I could write the next great American novel. But no. Gosh darn it! this is my first night as a real, true, living-alone grown up. I'm going to just chill.
It takes me approximately 4 minutes to shower. So I take another shower. and I leave the door open, because no one else lives here, so I can. Ha! Then after my indulgent 5 minutes later, I'm squeaky clean. It's only 8:00.
now what?
After 3 episodes of 30 rock on netflix, I decide it would be a smart, grown-up decision to prepare for tomorrow morning by getting breakfast.
My very posh, very urban apartment is right on top of the hippest bar in town, only two blocks away from my work, and no where near a grocery store.
My only options are a CVS and a vegan market place.
I opt for the CVS cause I guess it'll be cheaper. Plus I need milk, and I can't remember the rules of veganism, and don't want to risk it.
Looking at my breakfast options, I suddenly feel like a kid, cause I really want some sugary cereal. I pause, because the little voice in my head--namely my mother-- is reminding me of the evils of sugary cereal.
But hey--I have my OWN apartment now, conscience. I'm a real, live, grown up. I can buy whatever I want! And I want some Fruit Loops.
3 boxes of cereal (not all fruit loops), and a quarter gallon of milk later, I owe $26 dollars! #citylife
Have I mentioned it's humid here?
It is now 9:20 pm (or 6:20 pm if you're in Pacific Standard Time, which is from where I just moved).
Perhaps a total of 5 minutes of cereal indulgence later, I enjoy the activities on the back of the box. Did you know that there are answers and more activities on the inside of cereal boxes??
9:32 pm.
Am I tired yet?
Eventually I resign to doing something productive: cleaning the kitchen. there's only 2 dishes on the drying rack, I'll put them back in the cupboards.
"eiw! this plate is disgusting. who washed this?" I say out loud, to no one of course. Turns out, I washed it. cause I'm the only one living here. Have I mentioned that?
Oy.
I need a roommate.
