Stress is often a huge part of my life. I try to come off as I don’t care about the happenings around me, that I’m impartial. And for the most part, I have the majority of the people around me fooled. But the truth of the matter, and something I rarely let be known, is that I’m almost always freaking out on the inside. Money, relationships, family, the fact that I ate a Snickers bar for lunch… All of these things travel through my head at random moments leaving me with the anxiety of a kitten in a room full of ravenous wolves. Recently I’ve been spending everyday looking for places to live. I love my roommates, but it’s time for me to move on. Unfortunately, it’s not the right time for my wallet. So I’ve spent innumerable hours searching for 1 bedrooms only to be let down. Now I’m back to searching for 2 bedrooms. Maybe 3 bedrooms are in my future as well, but I hope not. So what does this mean for your fateful heroine?
I’M STRESSED THE FUCK OUT!!!!!!!!!!! I need my own place. I need money to get my own place. I need someone to actually be renting a one bedroom, which apparently they don’t build anymore… And I need to stop eating Snickers bars for lunch.
So I’m taking a break. I’m fighting the urge to look at houses for a couple of days. I need to forget about it for a little while before I freak out and run my car into a pole while out running the streets for a place to live. I’ll talk to my roommates and tell them that I can live with one of them, but not both. I’ll explain that together they are just too messy, and I’m too anal about forward facing soup cans to deal with it. I’ll tell them I love them both, but my OCD can only stand so much. Then I’ll go back to looking for a place to live.
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