Well, my roommate, Susan, was looking for a place for herself. As such, it seemed natural that I moved with her. Perhaps that's why it was such a pain. Not only my bad karma for the move itself, but for actually trying to find a place as well. This took her approximately 27.3456 man-months. Ok, perhaps not as long.
But a good 6 months was used to find something in the Raleigh area that didn't require an arm and a leg. After this, finding a place that would be good for the dogs was hard. And then it came. The first bid. And so it went too. Too late.
And the next bid. People who don't know that if something's broken, you can't get full price for it. And the next bid. "Upstairs room hit by lightning" translates into "must replace entire upstairs." But since her realtor - affectionately known as "The Choad" - described the place as "The Cat's Ass", it was worth bidding on. They never got back to her.
Of course along the way were dumps. To which The Choad would simply walk in and say, "don't even talk to me about this piece of shit". Of course this is the same man who liked to leave messages on other people's microwave ovens.
So that's it. I'm still surviving the MBA program at NC State. I'm still avoiding doing any real work. And I'm still writing crappy stories about my alternative ego's worse half.
See you in the funny papers,
Clay "why does a school supposedly good at Supply Chain invoice me incorrectly
every semester?" Berry