Hello dapper lads and comely ladies.
I’m in the middle of moving but have decided to stop moving for a bit to share some thoughts.
Am I underestimating how often the average person shops for something other than food?
My neighbours, for example, have an Amazon Prime subscription. They’ve had it for a while. Instead of keeping their recycling inside until they’re ready to dispose of it, they pile empty Amazon boxes upon a stool outside their suite that they probably bought off Amazon. The boxes vary in number and size, which is how I know it’s a steady stream of orders.
Even if they’re using Amazon to buy consumables, such a dish soap, that’s still fucked up. Like, you’d sooner give Bezos your money than to walk five minutes to the grocery store? And the guy is a jogger! Good luck running away from your spending problem, #304.
I can’t wait to get a whole bunch of new neighbours to judge, including my boss. Does he know how to sort his recycling? AN UPDATE TO COME.
People who don’t sort their recycling upset me. This is an extension of The Shopping Cart Theory. Similarly, the other day at work, I opened a box to find a pair of child’s winter boots that had been returned dirty. “Really?” I asked a co-worker who responded, “It happens all the time.” People are relentlessly inconsiderate by nature.
I am annoyed all the time, and that, in itself, is annoying: An infinite loop of annoyance.
On a more cheery note, I’ve had two people offer to help me move this week. They’re both excellent people who have never abandoned a physical shopping cart and probably sort their recycling even better than me: separating the foil and polyethylene layers from the paper of their empty Tetra Paks.
I’ve made the traditional pizza offering, but there’s a caveat: they’ll have to eat standing up because I only have a camp chair.
Aside from having new people to scope, I’m excited about living in a place where I’ll be outside as soon as I open the door rather than still inside, confronted by a mountain of empty boxes from Amazon.
Also, I’ll get to have plants. Not that having plants was forbidden–aside from marijuana plants–it’s because I once lived with two cats that chewed on everything, including the wall. Unlike walls, many plants are toxic to pets, so I just focused on watering and feeding the two beasts.
It’s good to have friends who can make you think about the positives that are to come.
If you’re the type to send housewarming gifts, a $450 pitcher plant would be terrific, if not a risky investment. (Ooh, it’s out of stock?)
The move-out inspection will be on the 31st with this asshat from the property management company who I strongly dislike. The first time I met him, he was clearly hungover. Yann and I were at the office to sign the lease: I asked this guy questions by paper and pen, only to have him respond to Yann. Why do people think this is okay? He also ended the meeting without giving us anything to sign until we asked for the lease, which was the whole point of our meeting. “Oh yeah, right… right.”
Months later, I returned to the office solo with an inquiry, forcing him to confront me face-to-face. Except, he managed to bypass this by using the receptionist! What a fuckbag. I’m gonna slip fish into his briefcase when he’s not looking.
It’s a good thing I’ll be wearing a mask, otherwise, the loathe would just seep from my face. My expressive eyebrows will be my undoing though. I better get my security deposit back.