Why, oh Why Is Coley Not Rich??

I hate apartments. I hate beige walls. I hate non-descript buildings. I hate living in a space I can't change because I don't own it. Unfortunately, until I win the lottery (which might be a possibility, if I played the lottery) renting is all I can do. My lease is up on December 1, so I finally get to leave the bug-infested, leaking roof, rundown apartment. The apartment really isn't that bad. But it's the little things: like a front door that latches, not having to live in constant fear of cockroaches (who persist despite my OCD cleaning tendencies), knowing that my landlord is the least responsive and responsible person to ever live past childhood. So, the apartment hunt is on. This time the budget is bigger, but so are the space requirements. After living in one bedroom insanity for a few months, we need more room. Especially since Xtian is the only man I know who can fill two ENORMOUS closets with clothes, and STILL have to store a couple large suitcases worth under the bed and dressers. I have about 6 pairs of pants that I wear (a couple pairs of jeans, a few work pants). Xtian has over 20. Stereotypes be damned.


I found a place I love. It's beautiful, and CLEAN, and has a back yard, and a beautiful bathroom, a fantastic kitchen etc. However, it's only one bedroom. The place is much bigger than where we live now, but only one bedroom, and one living room. *Sigh* I guess I'd rather have a little less space and have a beautiful home.

Keep happy thoughts coming my way, we just turned in our applications.
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After a rocky start to the week, Xtian and I are doing wonderfully. We are both bad at fighting. I'm loud and need to get things out, whereas words are not Xtian's forte. So, it's frustrating.
But, we finally got past our shit, and are all ok. Misunderstanding has passed.

Xtian has announced that he is taking me on a date. We don't go out much, we're poor. But, Xtian's income has stabilized and I think he's feeling the need to wine and dine me a bit. And I have no problem with this. The only thing I need to do is be at home looking purdy and the rest is up to him. Nice.

Oh, and he gave me a big check to cover his part of the bills. In the memo field, he took a cue from my mother and wrote "favors." Whoever processes the check, now thinks I'm a prostitute. Excellent.
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So, I received a book catalog in the mail yesterday. Nothing strange about that. What was a little different though is that the catalog is called "Black Expressions: Home to the most titles for African Americans in the Country." And it was addressed to me.

Xtian took one look at it and about died laughing. Apparently, I'm officially black now. Who knew? My membership card should be arriving shortly.
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I've been the laziest ass alive this week. I stopped setting my alarm and just allowed myself to wake up when I was ready. Usually between 7 and 8. Which means, I'm not working out at all (pay no attention to the expanding waistline, seriously, stop staring. Ass.) but I also haven't had more than two headache days this week. Fan-frickin'-tastic.

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Right, since deadlines mean nothing here at KP, the bulk of my work for the day just showed up. Fie. Happy Friday y'all.