Something will happen within those 16 days. I'm not sure what -- it's anyone's guess, at this point. Good? Bad? Indifferent? I don't know. But the stress of waiting for whatever to happen, might just kill me.
I got my new Driver's License in the mail this past Thursday. Sat down Friday to start the application process for our new apartment, and immediately hit a series of roadblocks. Resolved those, thanks to the lovely people in the leasing office. Finished mine, then couldn't figure out how to add Megan or Matthew. Got THAT figured out -- I thought -- and finally paid the application fees, closed the browser, and crossed my fingers. I also sent an email to the leasing office that said I wasn't sure if it was done right, because I wasn't asked about their income, etc.
Woke up today to an email from the property manager that said she was trying to figure it out, but she was alone in the office and not having much luck. At last, she sent me an email that said we were going to have to come to the leasing office on Wednesday (the office will be closed on Tuesday for an all-staff, all-day meeting), and they would walk us through the application. We've already been turned down, naturally, since we need at the very least, Matthew's income to meet the income requirements. Now, it might be a simple matter for most people to just zip down to the new apartments and do that... but we're 50 miles from there, and no car.
I googled how to estimate how much an Uber will cost, and Matthew seems to think we would need an UberXL, which his going to be $85, probably each way. And I don't know yet if I'm going to have pay for another round of application fees or not. I haven't even been able to tell Megan any of this, because Donnie's been out here since before Megan got home, and I don't want to discuss it anything to do with the new place in front of (or with) Donnie.
Let's add to that that I still have to get our "official" two cats up to date on their shots, with a record to give to the manager.
I have two cats who are in heat (mine being one of them), so they're shut up in Matthew's room. My cat will not stop making noise.
And then there was dinner, tonight.
Ordinarily, I fix dinner between 5 and 5:30. This way I'm not eating right before I go to bed. This way I can do other things with my evening.
Tonight I was doing schoolwork, so when Donnie said she was going to fix her own dinner, I said that's fine. She said she'd probably be done around 8 or so. We'd all been snacking, so not a problem. Except I finished my schoolwork, as much as I was going to do tonight, it was past 8p.m. and she was still Doing Cooking Things. She made some sort of chicken broccoli alfredo lasagna. It sounded pretty good, except she used so much garlic my head started hurting from it. And she had to make her own noodles by hand. And something else homemade, I don't know. She used her blender, and she used her cheese shredder thingy, and now there are about a thousand more dishes than there were, previously. Megan was supposed to have finished doing dishes yesterday (she didn't).
Donnie started cooking some time around 5p. She finished up at a few minutes after 10p. FIVE FUCKING HOURS to cook one dish for one person. The other night she made herself Gyros (complete with her own homemade flatbread and yogurt sauce). She went and ate and then came out and said "hey, only three hours from start to finish!". I consider three-to-five hours to fix any single meal to be ridiculous unless it's something like Thanksgiving or Christmas.
So, it's 11:05p, MY dinner won't be ready for another half hour, and there are all these tiny little cracks in how the next two weeks are going to go... and I'm so afraid that something is going to press down harder, and everything is going to splinter and fall.
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