I can feel it.

Well, my bags (or boxes, as the case may be) are unpacked, and my things are settled in, and I can't say the same for Boyfriend and his never-ending supply of bullshit possessions. He's had this apartment for about 3.5 weeks, and there are still boxes that aren't unpacked and things that haven't found a final resting place. I suppose that part of the problem is that he just owns too many things- and a majority of those things are either completely useless or seldom used.

I can't say that anything in the past month or so has gone my way, so I'm naturally inclined to have a lot to bitch about- and trust me, I will.

First, I would like to meet the retard that designed this apartment. We can all generally agree that the people most likely to operate a kitchen are women- and to me, this indicates a good argument to make the kitchen to scale for a woman, not an NBA player. I can barely reach into the bottom shelf of the mounted shelves...I don't even bother with the top shelf. I know that I am shorter than the average American woman (who stands at 67" or 5' 7") but I am only shorter by 2 inches. Moreover, this area is mainly populated by Indian and Pakistani immigrants- and I have yet to see an Indian or Pakistani woman who stands any taller than I do. Ridiculous!

Second, I can't help but constantly draw comparisons to my first stint living with a significant other- and in some ways, I long for that situation (which is crazy, if you know the story). I've become my mother in my obsession over the clock (and I think, for that reason, I've stopped wearing a watch- although this has made for obsessive cell phone checking). I like to wake up, take my walk, shower, make my bed and be ready to leave in two hours (allowing for a 45 minute walk). Because Boyfriend decided to take the day off, I invited him to take a walk with me...BIG FUCKING MISTAKE. I woke and got moving around 9, meaning that I wanted to get out and be on my way by 9:15. Boyfriend woke at about the same time, and asked if he had enough time to brew coffee- I should have said no. But, the man enjoys his morning cup of Kenyan blend, and who am I to separate him from his one true love? So, I decided to make the bed (which is an event because we have so many blankets- which is another story for another paragraph) while he brewed and drank his coffee. Well, after he wandered around and did whatever the hell he does to waste time, we finally get our shoes on and I anxiously finger the latch on the door...To no avail. A user manual for a DVD player that he no longer uses was sitting on top of a still-packed box, and he had to stop to read it.

Jesus H. Christ. I loudly unlocked the deadbolt after 5 minutes of watching him read that stupid manual, and we were on our way...At 11. High Heat, no shade, 2 hours after I had planned to go on the walk. I was irritated. But, I didn't want to be the annoying girlfriend that ruined his day off, so I didn't say anything. We walk over to the trail and move down the lush path- it's well shaded by tall trees that only occasionally let in a patch of sun- my favorite. Now, let's note that Boyfriend stands at 6'2" and he's all legs. I stand at 5'4" and I have a long torso- there is no way I can keep up with even his laziest strides. I have mentioned this problem to him over and over again, but perhaps because I wasn't on the television screen when I said it, he didn't really hear me. I tried to keep up, but I was, essentially, jogging. And in this humid heat...I was tired quickly. I gave up trying to keep up with him about the time he decided to take a detour off the path and into an un-shaded neighborhood. It was just too hot for me to be running to keep up with his stupid ass.

I called out to him that not only was I far behind him, but my skin was starting to burn. I am, yet again, proving to be my mother's spawn. I simply can't be in the sun for extended periods of like...25 seconds or more. Our total walk was 45 minutes, and about half of that was in the sun- and I've come back quite pink in the cheeks. Great. But, not only do I find that I burn easily...I get some kind of stupid rash when I'm in the sun...And that's really pretty, comfortable, too.

As usual, rather than listening to me, Boyfriend continues loping ahead, plunging into the harsh sun while I try to keep up and shade my face with my hands. I had the keys to the apartment, and I seriously considered just turning back and going home- if he couldn't be bothered to even listen to me, I couldn't be bothered to make sure he didn't get locked out of the building. But, because I'm a stupid bitch, I followed him through the neighborhood while he explored ways to get back onto the path. I continually warned him that there was a fence, and he kept ignoring me. Maybe there is something about the fact that I have a vagina that makes my opinions and statements completely unimportant.

We finally get back onto the campus, and, yet again, he doesn't take my word for the best path, and we split. I sit in the shade while he navigates his way back to me- my whole face is stinging, and I can feel the bumps forming on my cheeks. He mentions that this has been really pleasant, and asks if I want to make another circuit. In no gentle way, I explained that he was more than welcome, but I was going straight back to the apartment.

We get back, I take my shower, and by 12:15, I'm ready to do whatever we need to do. Boyfriend has just gotten into the shower. I think I might kill him in his sleep.

As for the bed, he can't sleep under the comforter that I own. He says that it's too hot- which is most certainly the biggest bunch of bullshit I have heard in the past 3 days. It is a light cotton thing that, frankly, is the lightest thing I've ever slept under. He'd rather sleep under a heavy cotton blanket- apparently he equates how puffy the blanket is with how hot it is. He refuses to even try sleeping under my comforter, and tries to get me to sleep under his stuffy blanket. No thanks, 'tard. So, the bed has to be made with the two sheets, two blankets, comforter and special cat blanket. He thinks all of that is ridiculous, and that I should just bring out the comforter when I'm going to sleep- but I don't think he understand exactly how ugly his blanket is, and that seeing my bedframe with my comforter is pretty much the only comfort of home I have. Maybe he just doesn't understand (even though he couldn't stay at my apartment for longer than a single night because he didn't feel at home- but no one ever accused Boyfriend of having any empathy).

The biggest concern is #3: Stupid Fucking Cat. I hate hate hate Stupid Fucking Cat. She's managed to bite me twice in the past three days, and Boyfriend is not concerned- after all, she's a lot tamer than she was before. Boyfriend is not at all concerned that I have to wake up every morning at 5 am to sleep on the couch because Stupid Fucking Cat takes the smelliest shit ever about 3 feet away from my nose- he's gotten used to it, I guess. No, the litter box can't be moved because Stupid Fucking Cat is used to it there, and Boyfriend can't think of another single place that Stupid Fucking Cat's litter box could go. I say: how about on the porch- where Stupid Fucking Cat can live, too. But, I don't say anything because I know all too well that if Boyfriend had to choose between Stupid Fucking Cat and me, he would choose Stupid Fucking Cat. I mean, he has already, hasn't he? Stupid Fucking Cat's comfort has priority over my comfort. She has more space. When she gets pissed off and bites me, the answer isn't "God, Stupid Fucking Cat needs to be stopped" it's "Stupid Fucking Cat needs her space. She was angry, so while you were standing in front of the bed, she came out from her hiding spot and attacked your leg- you should know better than to stand anywhere near where Stupid Fucking Cat could possibly be hiding."

I will kill them both in their sleep.


I shouldn't even bother introducing him to my parents. This relationship isn't going to last as long as this lease. I can feel it.