Cheetos and Beer

I just skipped another apartment showing.  My faith in the process is nil right now.  My motivation is non-existent.  I just reread that craigslist post and phrases like "no drugs" and "cleanliness is a must" just jumped out at me.  And in my pre-dinner, low blood sugar angst I just felt like walking the block and a half to check the place out was too much.  I wanted to come home and sing and cook.  So I went to the supermarket, realized that I'd only be eating at home one night this week and ended up buying granola, cheetos, beer, and a chocolate bar.  I don't know if this marks a low point in my life or if it's totally awesome.  Probably both.  And now I'm in my apartment, feeling self-conscious about singing because I don't want to wake my roommate.  AND NOT OUT OF ANY COMPASSION FOR HER MIND YOU, but because I don't want another bitchy fucking email that basically has the subtext of "I want to pretend I live alone."  Making good choices and being considerate because based on fear of punishment (yes, each one of those emails is it's own special brand of torture): let's talk about how low that is on the rungs of the moral development ladder. VERY LOW.  Part of me wants to keep drinking and have her come out here to ask me to stop singing and then I would just lay into her.  People around the block would hear me chewing her out.

That being said I feel like I always post about negative stuff, and I want to make it clear that like shit here in SF is AWESOME.  Minus these girls and these plays and well... okay, listen the good seriously outweighs the bad.  It's just that I try to keep my posts clever or at least mildly entertaining and then suddenly I get really mad and am like "Fuck it, I'm telling the whole internet about my angst!" (Or my mom, a few of the Hot Pitches, and sometimes Luke).  How very livejournal of me.

Let's see, awesome San Francisco things:

• That sunrise when I'm driving to work in the morning, I wish I could bottle it
• My play is super popular and was extended for a weekend
• CUTE LUKE
• The kids at my job are SO cute, I mean I REALLY like kids when I'm not constantly sleep deprived: one wears light up cowboy boots, and others are just fucking brilliant, and others are SO curious (TOPHER), and some just make me laugh so much
• The other day I heard a woman at the gym saying that her son had wanted to be a teacher forever, but the job market was so bad that he decided to major in business instead.  I DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW YOU CAN MAKE THAT CHOICE, KIDS ARE SO AWESOME AND WHEN YOU TEACH YOU ARE ACTUALLY MAKING A DIFFERENCE IN PEOPLE'S LIVES AND IN THE WORLD OHEMGEE IT'S THE BEST.
• I live in a fucking city.
• I swear I'm getting prettier (thanks gym and Emily from the WakShak [great color girl, seriously]).

This has been a half-drunk post. Buh-bye, time to start making phone calls.