Tag Archives: Why God?

A Sleepless Night

5 Nov

Well I’ve officially come to the conclusion that my neighbor is a drug addict. For the most part, I try not to make rash generalizations about people, but how else can I explain this guy? About once or twice a month, he will go on an hours-long rant through the night, filled with nonsensical ramblings peppered with obscenities. How a single person has enough anger and stamina built up to literally shout at the top of their lungs for six solid hours is a feat that can only be accomplished with the aid of some illegal substance! Either that or he’s possessed by a devil determined to ruin the Sunday evenings of a respectable apartment building in Upper Manhattan!

Unlike him, I have to get up in the morning, so pretty much the minute he started, I started banging on the wall that connects our apartments. If this had been the first time this had happened, maybe I would have exercised a little more haste, but I’ve been living here for a year and have been around the block with this whack job! Regardless, not my best plan. This only sent him further into rage, which started snowballing into slamming doors, him banging on the wall, and me leaping out of bed to dead-bolt my door. Crawling back under the covers, I popped in my headphones to drown out the noise, but four hours later, he was still in full psychopath mode, and I had gone through my entire “Please God, Let Me Sleep” playlist three times over!

Let me just explain how much I did not feel like dealing with this last night. I’ve been working like crazy the last few weeks and am tired enough as it is. Then yesterday, I spent the entire afternoon volunteering, using my minimal arm strength to heave branches and bags of leaves into the back of a truck. So what I was really looking forward to was a night of lethargy, not lunacy! And my night extended into the rest of my morning–after storming out of my apartment on my way to work, I yanked the front door open and the knob came off in my hand! Happy one year anniversary!

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Well, So Much For That

10 Oct

Let’s all recall just a few short days ago, when I was riding on Cloud Nine after successfully booking a much-needed interview. Let us also recall how that same cloud transported me through a pleasant business trip, dropping me off on a pillowy puff of work contentedness. Well yesterday, that fluffy cloud became a two-ton rock, plummeting me to the deep depths of panic, irritation, and snippiness. My entire day involved damage control–begging, bitching, and battling my way through every task. By the end of the day, I had given up on working and settled on banging my head on my desk until I was escorted out and put in a cab!

From the start, the day was doomed. I woke up late, and walked into work at the exact time my boss was heading down the hall. BUSTED! Then, after settling at my desk, I got a phone call from my beloved interviewee, who informed me they were cancelling. WHAT? That sent off a two-hour flurry of phone calls attempting to convince them to stay on board. Between begging, getting pissed, and then begging some more, I got them to stay! RELIEF! But then I had to change their flights and travel arrangements! STRESSFUL! By 3 pm, I was already fantasizing about the cupcake I would be treating myself to after work…followed by a hefty glass of wine!

Unfortunately, relief has yet to come. Last night, after stepping in a puddle and getting stranded on the subway for an hour because of an incident at my stop, I buried myself under the covers to hide from imminent doom! At 9 pm, I called it a night and prayed that my dreams would take me back to the lovely cloud I had so recently been floating on. No such luck! This morning, I was awoken with the news that my interview never even got on the plane last night! Almost immediately, I felt a wave of panic wash over me. That was then followed by supreme annoyance and the desire to punch something.  I think I should forgo that cupcake and head straight for the sheet cake! Or maybe a boxing lesson will do the trick–I’ll pound that negativity out if it’s the last thing I do!

Casa de Critter

13 Sep

There are a lot of great things about living on my own. The independence, the privacy, the bragging rights…but one thing I don’t like is having to deal with the growing presence of little critters in my apartment. When I was living at home, my dad was master exterminator. He was the one who would suck up the disgusting clusters of lady bugs that freaked me out, or pluck an enormous daddy-long-legs from the shower curtain. Now these delightful tasks have fallen to me! Just this week, there was a giant bug lurking in my magazine stack, and an ant colony under my sink! But last night, it all culminated into quite possibly the most traumatic thing to happen to an apartment dweller: There was a MOUSE in my apartment! Insert screeching, shrieking, and terrified hopping at your own discretion.

The giant bug and the ant problem were easily solved with an overly enthusiastic spraying of half a can of Raid and more shrieking, but the mouse?! Ewwwwarggggggguhhhhhheeeeekkkk! There I was, peacefully lounging on my bed with a book, when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a movement which sat me up so quickly, my neck is still sore! And there, at the base of a chair I will now never sit in again, was a mouse! A tiny, cute little brown mouse…WHAT? NO. RODENTS. UGH.

Of course, maturely, I immediately started screaming, which surprised the mouse. But instead of running towards whatever hole in came in, it ran closer to my couch! So I shrieked, dropped my book on the floor, and shouted “Get out mouse!” until it ran back under the chair! I then cautiously got down on the floor to see if it was still there, and then started freaking out some more before realizing it was just the chair leg! Regardless, I spent the rest of the night tip-toeing across the floor, running past the “mouse area” and ripping the covers off my bed, thinking there would be another one snuggled up!

I just got back from the store, where I purchased six boxes worth of traps. Although thinking about it now, the only thing worse than seeing a mouse is having to dispose of one! Let’s hope he went home…or at least started living at my annoying neighbor’s place! Ah, adulthood!

MONDAY.

6 Aug

O Monday, you slay me.

This day did not begin on the right foot. I spent a lovely weekend in New Jersey, enjoying the great invention of air conditioning and getting slaughtered in tennis by my sister. I was at peace. I was tan. My hair looked nice. These are all things that would make me wake up on Monday morning and say, “Let’s do this, week!” But instead, I think we can all deduce what happened: NEW JERSEY TRANSIT RUINED MY VIBES. AND MY HAIR. …I’m still tan, so at least there’s that.

I had to wake up at 6:30 AM to make a bus that was LATE. Then I had to sit in a seat whose fan wasn’t working. Then my blackberry died. Then my ipod died. Then my SOUL died because just as quickly as we were motoring along the highway, we came to a complete stop…and stayed that way for a half hour. Then it was the slow, agonizing crawl through the roundabout towards the entrance of the tunnel. Then it was the claustrophobia-inducing idling inside the tunnel. And then it was the complete mayhem of getting off the bus into the crush of the ten billion other people making their way through Port Authority.

At this point, I needed to be at work in thirty minutes. Already experiencing the manic flash-backs from my commuting days, I had no time to go back to my apartment and mentally reset for my day. So to add to my already traumatic morning, I had to go into the Port Authority Bus Terminal bathroom to change my clothes and put on my makeup! Ew. Ew ew ew ew ew.

Then it was the mad-rush to work, which made me mad-sweaty, which meant my hair was mad-frizzy and I was just mad.  The only thing that alleviated my desire to mad-ly punch someone in the neck was that synchronized swimming is on today. Those ladies can kick!

Adult Sippy Cup

24 May

It has become abundantly clear to me that I seemed to have missed the early childhood development skill of drinking out of a cup without spilling it all over myself. While I think I’m “on track” otherwise, when it comes to drinking or carrying anything in liquid form, without fail, I spill.

In the past, I could blame this (like every other downfall in my life) to my morning commute. Unable to handle steering a moving vehicle, changing the radio, screaming at other commuters, and drinking coffee at the same time, I pulled into the park-and-ride many times with a pungent perfume of stale coffee and crippling angst. But while many of my life problems were solved when I moved into the city, my inability to drink things is something I can’t seem to kick!

I thought this problem would subside once I switched to iced coffee, which you drink with a straw. How hard could it possibly be to sip from a straw? In my case, apparently very. Yesterday, my straw had a slit in it, so a single sip ended up straight in my lap. Then this morning, as I was attempting to wrangle my umbrella, re-adjust my purse, and prepare my morning java, my purse slid off my shoulder, whacking my filled cup of coffee straight onto my feet. How pleasant it was to squish my way through the office….at least my feet were fully caffeinated!

Frankly, I’m not really sure what to do. Do they make adult sippy cups? Would people think it was weird if I wore a full-body bib to work? Maybe I should re-think my assertion that I’m a glorious multi-tasker, when I can’t even handle the toddler-learned skill of lifting a cup to my lips!

This Day Stinks

6 Feb

What. A. Day. I should never have gotten up this morning…or even went to bed last night! After coming home from a Superbowl party last night, I was so exhausted from the excitement of the GIANTS WINNING that I went right to bed. Well, not even ten minutes later, the drunken super of my apartment building started shouting obscenities at the top of his lungs, and began banging away downstairs, apparently attempting to fix the front door of our building, which doesn’t close all the way. May I remind you that it was midnight. Need I remind you also that he had THE ENTIRE WEEKEND to do this. He also has THE ENTIRE DAY. A door not closing all the way is not an emergency that needs to be taken care of in the middle of the night, with power tools no less!

Well, this went on until 3 in the morning. Around 2 am, I got out of bed and pounded on the inside of my door three times, in an attempt to send a message that he should SHUT UP. Well, it sent a message alright, one that sent him into even more of a drunken rage. I was extremely close to calling the police, but I guess I finally got used to the grating tone of his constant stream of chatter and fell asleep.

So this morning, I was naturally expecting the door downstairs to be painted in solid gold and to be hermetically sealed, but it was exactly the same! This sent me into my own internal rage, which of course has colored the rest of my day so far and has set off a slew of other Monday-morning blues. When I got into work this morning, my ID didn’t work, the printer started printing out important documents on fluorescent colored paper, and the coffee machine was once again broken. Is it Friday yet??

Dear God, Please Make it Sunny Again

28 Sep

Dear God,

Here’s the deal. I’m really, really, REALLY sick of this weather. My hair is sick of this weather. My summer/fall wardrobe is sick of this weather. It’s time for you to let the sun shine, and for the beautiful fall weather I adore so much to arrive. Last time I checked, I lived in Jersey, not the jungle.

I know I tend to ask you for a lot of silly things (like the time I begged you to make someone steal my car so I could collect the insurance money, or my daily prayers for a commute that’s less than two hours) but this is no joke. I am tired of the gray weather, the constant rain, and the disgusting humidity. Please God, make the sky turn that beautiful crisp blue and the thermometer drop below 65 degrees so I can wear my new tweed blazer. I look really good in that blazer.

Here’s the thing, God. People act really dumb when it’s raining, dumber than they usually do, if you can imagine that! (Of course you can…you’re God.) A rainy day means that people drive slower, make right hand turns slower, shift lanes slower…frankly it’s driving me insane. And then, when I finally get to the city, people are doubly preoccupied with the difficult task of holding an umbrella and walking at the same time! I hate to admit this, but more than once I have contemplated poking someone with the tip of my umbrella, which is rather sharp. Fine…I’ll admit I think about this a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

So God, please. Give me fall. Give me sun. Give me one day without frizzy, unmanageable hair.

Love always,

Me