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I live in complete fear of the drop-in. I don’t just fear the dating drop-in, I fear ANYONE dropping by my apartment. When I hear a knock I stop what I’m doing, drop to the floor and fervently pray that the knock in on my neighbors’ door and not mine.

Sadly I’m not exaggerating. Well, maybe about the praying part, but nothing else.

My apartment is a complete disaster and has been since I returned to school. By the time I finish with everything that needs to be done I want to sack out on the couch, not clean the couch.

I’ve lived in my apartment for five years. This is the longest I’ve lived anywhere since moving out of my parents’ house at 18. I once loved my cute little apartment with a loft bedroom. It’s charming and totally fits my personality. However, the busier I got the more I stopped caring about how clean things were. The carpets look like I had a rave party and the abandoned shoes all over complete the look.

I’d love to buy a small condo, but that small savings I had went to the University of Utah. I’m not complaining, mind you, a degree is totally worth it. It’s just… well… I’m tired of not being able to invite people over. I would die if anyone saw how messy my place is.

Rather than set aside a day to clean up and rent a carpet cleaner, I’m blogging about the situation. Blogging and trying to convince myself that tomorrow will be the day that Daisy the Pug develops opposable thumbs and turns into a French maid.

Cleaning my apartment this morning there was a pesky bottle of wine taking up space.  It needs to be thrown out, but there’s a glass and a half left.

Do you:

A)    Pour the wine down the drain.

B)    Look to see if anyone is watching, drink the wine while telling yourself you’re not really an alcoholic you’re just not willing to waste money, or wine.

C)    Happily pour yourself a glass of wine to accompany your breakfast while toasting yourself for being so awesome.

Obviously I chose C, which would you choose?

I’m second-guessing my decision to move in with my brother Ben. I called him last night to go over some small details and was very displeased with the results.

“Hey, Ben, can my shoes live in your bedroom since it’s bigger and there are so many of them?”

“No.”

“OK, well can I paint the bathrooms pink?”

“No.”

“Even though it’s my favorite color?”

“No.”

“Can I put Daisy’s name on the mailbox? As you know she’s way more human than dog.”

“No.”

I just don’t feel like he’s being supportive of my needs as a shoe whore/pink obsessed/crazy dog lady.

I have a friend who doesn’t have cable or Internet access at home. Can you imagine? I couldn’t, so I wanted to see if I could handle it. I couldn’t. At all.

Tuesday Night
7:30 Home from class.
7:32 Staring at my TV wondering what the red light on my Tivo is recording.
7:35 Still staring.
7:40 Going crazy wondering what DAMN SHOW I AM MISSING! Maybe grocery shopping will help.
8:20 Grocery shopping done. Cold cereal and cottage cheese put away. Now what?
8:24 A vodka tonic, that’s what!
8:26 Riding the elliptical.
8:36 Not riding the elliptical. Without TV to take my mind of exercising, I’m fully aware that I’m exercising. Uggg, boring.
8:45 OK, yoga. I like doing yoga.
9:00 SHIIIIITTT! I don’t like doing yoga on my own—can’t remember poses correctly. Need program from Tivo for proper workout.
9:02 I’ll catch up on some reading. I still need to finish the Obama book and there are three past New Yorkers I’ve not read yet, plus school reading. I suck.
9:03 Hmmm… What to read first. Listing pros and cons of starting with different readings.
9:08 Can’t decide. Maybe a vodka tonic will help.
9:10 Yup! Decided on magazine reading.
9:13 Phone call from hooker George. Talking super slow to take up more time. He’s Texan, he won’t notice.
9:27 Wondering if Twitter via phone counts. I really want to twitter how hard this is.
9:28 Really, it’s my phone not my computer, it shouldn’t count. Hmmm..
9:29 Should get back to reading, but my focus is gone. Way, way gone.
9:31 Putting moisturizer on my face for the fourth time tonight. If I break out I’m gonna blame my friend for putting this crazy idea into my head. He sucks.
9:32 Staring at face in the mirror watching to see if any zits surface. Consequently wondering if zits could appear that fast. Probably not.
9:34 Whew, nothing.
9:35 Damn my bathroom could use a good cleaning.
9:36 Remembering fondly the time I manipulated Ben into cleaning it for me. Hmm… Wonder when he’s back in town. I could possibly talk him into it. Wait, I have no idea when he’s back and I can’t check my email to find out.
9:37 Does phone email count? Compromising with Internet addicted self: outgoing mail is OK, past mail notsomuch.
9:40 Clock watching. How early can I go to bed without seeming pathetic.
9:45 Fuck this! I’m taking an Ambien and going to bed.

I drove to the country for the day to help celebrate my grandpa’s 80th birthday. Of course, I had to drive by my old stomping grounds. I saw this and couldn’t help but laugh. I wonder how much the prom dates are being sold for. I’d love to get Arlo one for his birthday.

I love my apartment, but have recently come to the conclusion I’m totally over it. It’s been a good little spot for me, but it’s time to move on. And move up. Only there’s a problem: I want to live the good life. Nothing fancy, but it would be nice to wash both dishes and clothing at home. My current apartment has neither a dishwasher or laundry. Paying more rent shouldn’t be a problem, but I’m in school and only working a part(ish) time job.

Thus the conundrum.

I’ve been considering taking on a roommate. I’ve not had a roomie in years (I’m not counting Daisy, as she never bothers to do any type of house work beyond her attempt to lick imaginary crumbs off the carpet.) I’ve even found a friend who is also looking for a new home. The only drawback is she’s young–fantastic, but young. She looks older than she is, and acts older than she is. Then there’s me… I look (I hope!!) younger than I am, and certainly act MUCH younger. If my calculations are correct (which they probably aren’t, I’m getting a C in math) then I figure we average out to be 26. She’s like a younger sister. In fact I had high hopes of her marrying into the family but she and Ben are “just friends.”

Will this work? Do I put my hesitations to bed and jump in? Can she deal with living the spinster life at such a young age? Will we get along? Can she handle my inherited orneriness? Am I worrying too much? Probably. I am, after all, my mother’s daughter.