The FBI Raided The CIA
It's been a while since I updated as I continue to let myself down by not updating daily.
Oh well. I can shut up because I've been busy.
My multiple personalities are getting out of control (just kidding, I'm mostly nearly sane).
Roommates and I have finally put together a schedule for moving, and frankly, this has only released the full force of my frantic worrying. We have to be out by the 31st of June, and that seems far-off enough to quell the worrying.
BUT, Roommates get the keys to their new apartment the 9th of June- and that means that they plan to have all of their crap moved by the 15th of June. Now, we have the carpet cleaning scheduled to happen on the 21st so that the landlord can inspect on the 23rd.
We plan on doing as much cleaning as possible on the 19th and 20th so that we can save money on the carpet cleaning bill, and because that's what responsible citizens do.
So, my crap *has* to be out by the 19th, so I anticipate using the weekend of the 17th and 18th to move- and that shouldn't be too difficult as I don't have a lot of stuff.
The problem is that the apartment that Mark has his eye on has somehow dropped off of the face of the planet. He is having a lot of trouble getting in touch with the leasing manager and after everything is signed and ready to go, he still has to wait 30 days before he can move. This means that he *has* to hear very good news by next Thursday. Frankly, he gets 3 days to move, and he's going to need all three. I can't be worrying about my stuff while I'm busy worrying about his move, so he'll need to begin his move on the 14th of June- which means he needs to sign everything by the 14th of May- that's Sunday. Today is Friday.
I am Fucked... Fucked with a capital F.
Fucked. Hard.
Frankly, I'm going to have to talk to Roommates about letting me crash with them at their new place for a short period of time until Mark can get his shit together.
I'm too mentally and emotionally exhausted to throw out a compliment...I'll leave that for later.
Oh well. I can shut up because I've been busy.
My multiple personalities are getting out of control (just kidding, I'm mostly nearly sane).
Roommates and I have finally put together a schedule for moving, and frankly, this has only released the full force of my frantic worrying. We have to be out by the 31st of June, and that seems far-off enough to quell the worrying.
BUT, Roommates get the keys to their new apartment the 9th of June- and that means that they plan to have all of their crap moved by the 15th of June. Now, we have the carpet cleaning scheduled to happen on the 21st so that the landlord can inspect on the 23rd.
We plan on doing as much cleaning as possible on the 19th and 20th so that we can save money on the carpet cleaning bill, and because that's what responsible citizens do.
So, my crap *has* to be out by the 19th, so I anticipate using the weekend of the 17th and 18th to move- and that shouldn't be too difficult as I don't have a lot of stuff.
The problem is that the apartment that Mark has his eye on has somehow dropped off of the face of the planet. He is having a lot of trouble getting in touch with the leasing manager and after everything is signed and ready to go, he still has to wait 30 days before he can move. This means that he *has* to hear very good news by next Thursday. Frankly, he gets 3 days to move, and he's going to need all three. I can't be worrying about my stuff while I'm busy worrying about his move, so he'll need to begin his move on the 14th of June- which means he needs to sign everything by the 14th of May- that's Sunday. Today is Friday.
I am Fucked... Fucked with a capital F.
Fucked. Hard.
Frankly, I'm going to have to talk to Roommates about letting me crash with them at their new place for a short period of time until Mark can get his shit together.
I'm too mentally and emotionally exhausted to throw out a compliment...I'll leave that for later.
posted by iconoclastical at 5:14 PM
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