Augh. This is gonna be quick and barely proofed. Tomorrow I’ve got an über early wake-up call for snowboarding, and today I spent the entire day building birthday presents. Since everything in this damn world is now computer-centric, from making presents to doing taxes to paying bills to getting a bag of chips, my wrists are killing me. My lower right arm is deliciously numb and tingly.
It’s going to be a long and miserable life of pain and poverty if I can’t find a way to get this fixed. What’s more, I’m totally over this dorm-room lifestyle. In explaining what I mean I think I’ll go ahead and invent a new phrase, which is “That’s so dorm room.” We’ll file it right under David’s “Those things look so price point.”
“Dorm Room” is the lifestyle in which you have one room for everything. “Studio” is a more respectful way to say the same thing, but I’m so far beyond respect at this point. I’m sick and tired of having one room that serves as bedroom, office, den, entertainment center, walk-in closet, gear closet and basement. Just yesterday this room was fairly clean, but after a day’s worth of arts and crafts it’s now completely trashed. I could clean up, but the same thing will happen again when I get back from snowboarding. Or running. Or hiking or kiting or biking or camping.
I’m far too O.C. to be constantly confronted by this mess, and it’s not like I can just leave, shut the door and go do something else. Do something else, eh? Like what? Taxes? I do that here. Write? I do that here. Read? Work? Listen to music? Balance my checkbook? Chat with friends? All here. Go to bed? I spin around 180 degrees and move six inches.
None of the things I need to do get me out of this one freakin’ room, and sometimes it’s enough to make me want to open my veins to the heavens. What’s more, unless someone wants to rent me a four bedroom house for $500 a month, or offer me a drastically increased paycheck (doing work that I can do without further ruining my hands, of course), I won’t be moving out of the dorms any time soon.
Pretty soon it’ll all get flipped topsy-turvey, and I’m sure I can bear with it a month longer. Still, it’s one of the things that, at my darkest moments, makes me pray for wildfires. It would suck if I suddenly lost everything in this dorm room to an uncontrollable blaze. The path would certainly be one of hardship as I struggled to piece back together the life I had lived. In that scenario, I would pray for a shred of the order that I am enjoying now.
Yeah. A wildfire would suck. But it would be a different kind of suck.