Crazed And Wild-Eyed

Is everyone like this right before moving into a new house?

I'm a quivering neurotic blob. What do I still have to do? How is this actually going to work? Is everything going to happen on schedule? And what is my mother-in-law going to say when she sees the condition my apartment is in?

Yes, Darin is coming down tomorrow, and his driving partner is his mother. Now, I am all for having a mom around -- she's done this moving in thing before. But...but...she's going to see what a slob I am. I guess I have to clean up a bit tonight, eh? Throw away the bags of garbage that have been collecting around here? Do some of the laundry that's been piling up?

It's going to be nice to have Darin around, so at least we can share some of the responsibilities such as "buy food" and "pay bills". I'm most looking forward to seeing Darin make good on his promise to cook for me a lot. I'm just looking forward to having someone to eat with, instead of saying, "Mmm...peanut butter and jelly again?"

At school everyone is running around like a chicken with their head cut off, because it's time to decide what we want to take in fall. One of the big decisions is thesis advisor. Every second-year student we see gets asked, "What do you think of _______?" Although usually we include a name in there (otherwise the second-year gets confused).

There's one student in our class whom no one can stand. And I hope she doesn't sign up for my thesis advisor -- everyone who's currently in her writing class out-and-out hates her. One guy told me every class there's a scramble to arrange themselves around the table so as not to have to sit across from her, because she stares. And she does. In the middle of lecture classes, she will just turn around and stare at you; I can't imagine what it would be like to sit across from her for a 3 or 4-hour class. I don't think she ever blinks. She also speaks in a slow, pretentious manner. In a rather vicious moment (who, moi?) I said she seems to be an automaton who's trying to learn how to act human, but she doesn't quite have it yet.

And she either likes me a whole bunch, or she feels sorry for me and is trying to make sure I have someone to talk to. Either way, I can't seem to get her to leave me alone.

(Why do I feel it's okay to write this? Well...I've told several people in the GSP about "my online journal". Not one person has been interested in reading it. So I figure that I'm most safe from my fellow writers.)

Anybody who's reading this in the Los Angeles area: need an almost-new refrigerator? Hardly used.