what up what up!
the rumors are true: i have migrated to substack. that’s because a) i think it’s funny and b) wordpress changed their ux so that the font color when i’m drafting is now like a light light grey and it’s really hard to read?? not sure what they were thinking, but they’ve lost a longtime user.
also i learned that i can make free posts here (i thought substack was paid-subscriber-only). if you want to give me your money, you may do so. i set my rate at the lowest amount they allow, which is $5 a month. do i deserve $5 a month for writing longwinded emo posts about my life? that is simply not for me to determine.
i will say that if i get even a single paid subscriber i will begin to feel exceptionally guilty if i ever let this thing slide. but paid or unpaid, i’m hoping and anticipating that this migration will coerce me into writing more often.
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it’s been maybe three weeks since i last wrote. i don’t have much to report. i know i’m going to have to move out at some point this summer, but i don’t know when. it could be may 1st, it could be september 1st, it could be anytime in between (likely a 1st, though). my apartment is being sold to my next-door neighbors, whom i do not like, whom will become my new landlords. they are actively trying to get me to leave before my sublease ends so they can start knocking down our dividing wall and doing whatever else they want to, letting their psychotic children bother an even greater percentile of the building. it should be an interesting and hopefully prosperous situation for me. i am prepared to be a dick about it. all to play for.
upon learning of the impending move, i immediately sold my peloton to a distrustful middle-aged man from new jersey who lingered in my apartment for a long time, on the phone with peloton customer support. my interest in the bike had waned, but in truth i’ve entered a persistent mode of light panic, a reactionary quality i get from my mom, typically brought on by changing life events (or in her case, my grandparents coming to visit for a few days) that sets aflame the sympathetic nervous system. i know i’ll have to move at some point and so have begun to shed as many of my earthly possessions as i reasonably can. it’s not a bad place to pass the time, craigslist.
i’ve been doing a bit of apartment searching, an activity that some people seem to really enjoy, to even find soothing. i find it daunting. there are so many options. it’s sort of like online dating in that way. how do you know which one you’ll like, and if you’ll like it best? and what if you make the wrong choice and get stuck? or worse, what if it’s stable and seems to be going well and then you start to feel trapped like you’ll never be free again? the analogy dies abruptly.
one thing i’m pretty confident i want is a place that’s pet-friendly, because i would like to get a dog. i think a dog would be good for me. and my therapist agrees. i’d like a medium-sized dog that does not bark much and can hold its pee for a long time. i don’t think that’s too much to ask for, dog-wise.
at least once a day i’ll see, out of the corner of my eye, one of the many little nicks or smudge marks in this old apartment and briefly i’ll be sure it’s a bug. otherwise i don’t think too much about costa rica. when i do linger in the memories i feel somewhat wistful, somewhat sad. sad because when i was down there i often thought about being back here, how i’d feel more connected to my life. that hasn’t really happened yet. by some accounts we’re nearing the light at the end of this pandemic tunnel, but i can’t see it. i’m still just floating, floating in the dark. floating like the little baby moses, if instead of a basket of reeds he was put into a sensory deprivation tank and shoved off downstream. i hope the day soon comes when i wash up on the riverbank and someone vaccinated lets me out.