Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Gotta Move.

I'm feeling a bit stressed right now, you guys. The Hunt for Randy's Bachelorette Pad '08 is giving me cramps, and I'm not yet seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. Frankly, I can't even find the damn tunnel. WHERE'S THE DAMN TUNNEL?? And now my landlord is lurking about, questioning whether or not I'll be out by the end of March. SHUT UP, FAT! (That's what I call him; "Fat".)

I mean when you get right down to it, I have over a month to find a place, and LIT'rally hundreds of expendable acquaintances I can call up and pretend to like a lot more in order to get them to help me move...(Not you.) So in essence (the popular and always-reliable African American women's magazine), I have nothing to worry about! Right? - Right. I may be up Shit's Creek, but dammit I've still got my paddle. It's just that, as I'm sure you can all empathize with, knowing you have to move (and not knowing where) is probably the most unsettling feeling in the world, especially here in New York. Studies have shown it to be right up there with awaiting the results of a pregnancy test. And you know I had my tubes tied years ago...by a highly decorated troop of Boy Scouts.

Earlier today, this build-up of all my frustrations and nervous energy about my current situation - you know...the threshold of destitution, and all - became simply overwhelming and exploded from within me! (It's not what you think.) I had no choice but to pack on the sequined eye shadow and DANCE around my office in a fit of rage and rhythm! Here is what the surveillance cameras caught...(How embarrassing??)...

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