Week 2

I know....I think I was supposed to start with week 1. However, week 1 was difficult enough without having to talk about how difficult it was. But scott and i are here. We're alive, we're melting from this awful heat, but we're ok. I feel like I have too many to get ahold of individually but just not enough time to do so. Ok, so maybe I have the time but not the energy.

July 4th weekend (definitely not my first choice when deciding to haul everything I own across three states) we packed up and followed a tsunami into Pittsburgh where my mom and dad, his mom and sister walked everything we own up a flight of stairs in the rain starting at 4:30 in the morning. Needless to say it was chaotic and full of yelling and arguing and wet and muddy and a long freakin weekend.

It's nice now though. The apartment is way more than I anticipated it would be. Everything is clean and matches which doesn't usually happen when you've got a hodge podge of your grandmother's basement items and a friend from your mom's work giving you used crock pots and discolored couches to live off of. (The couch has a 'lovin stain'. I don't ask and just avoid that particular cushion. Beggars can't be choosers.)

My new job is great, everyone is friendly and the only bad thing about it is that it's less than two miles away but takes fifteen minutes by car because of traffic. Why dont you walk, you say? Because while my neighborhood is friendly and full of old, italian women and little dirty children, my neighborhood I work in is like Bums Isle. Apparently no one in the city of Pittsburgh has to get a real job when they can just loiter outside a Steel City Rib joint all day begging for spare change and screaming at drivers they're almost causing fatal accidents with. So, I choose to drive. Sure, I might hit one of them, but if i have another run in with crazy rhonda who likes to sit outside the local Midas, i might not make it another day in this town. City living is a lot different from suburbs.

We also had a slight problem with our mail man in that he's a idiot with no teeth. It all started when we started getting nasty notes on letters from the girls I used to sit for or housewarming cards from our mother's.... "Put your name on your mailbox!" Big, ugly, 'I barely passed second grade' handwriting. Now, it's not so much that the note was rude, or that it was written all over pieces of mail that I would like to cherish and keep in a scrapbook like the big dumb girl I am. My main problem was that the mailbox isn't ours to just go out and start writing on with a sharpee or putting stickers on. So what does this moron do? He stops coming to the house all together. Netflix were going unattended. We received no bills, no letters, nothing for three days. It was absurd. So absurd that I had to waste a saturday going down to the post office and speaking with a slow supervisor, who had me come back at quitting time to confront our mail man in person. Turns out...you HAVE to put your name on your mailbox. How it is that I went 23 years WITHOUT my name on my mailbox makes no sense. OH and here's another treat...picking up your mail is a COURTESY. How is that even possible? How is that for years my parents have been putting up the little red flag on our box and the mail has been picked up, that i've been putting it in every drop box or mail holder or whatever the entire time i've lived on my own and never ONCE had a crazy, toothless mail man tell me that he doesn't even have to pick up my mail? What's the point of having a box? If you have to go to the post office to send your mail, why not just get one of those post office boxes that's labeled with a number so all the randoms don't know who lives in every house on the block because it's written in bright lettering on your mailbox outside?

The mail system confuses me. I hate that that skinny, no toothed, vengeful loser of a mailman gets paid 21.00/hr (according to the Pittsburgh want ads for the usps) by writing on strangers mail and skipping whatever house he feels like when it comes to picking up the mail. It's appalling. I'm going to start cherry bombing random post boxes shawn hunter style as an act of defiance. I'll get kicked out of pittsburgh quicker than it took me to move in.

Speaking of, we still don't have all our boxes un packed. We have a box of mirrors that are supposed to go up as decoration somewhere from my mom but scott suddenly decided that mirrors "freak him out". I didn't even know how to respond to that. So they sit in the dining room next to our unopened dart board and fooseball table. No mirrors, no darts. I should try to be more understanding though. There are currently two pictures of babies in teacups in the bathroom that I know he's not too pleased about. Well whatever, i let him put up a giant poster of Bob Marley looking all strung out in the dining room which is not exactly "company worthy' if you catch my drift.

Alright, time to catch some sleep. I don't know how people do this 'full time job' nonsense. Getting up every day at the same time and working the whole day? It's crap. I need to find a new career. Preferably one that requires sleeping in, making cupcakes and playing with puppies all day long. I'll check the want ads tomorrow.