Potatoes and time make the world of the mildly hungover all better. That and some drugs and some orange juice and some water. I still think I might go home, though. I need sleep and gaming and more cuddling with my kitten.

She woke me up at four for cuddling and spooning. Then we had more cuddling when my alarm went off an hour later.

Thena was getting all kinds of attention yesterday. I had her on her leash while I say on the stoop, and a guy came by and gave her a little pat. Then I saw my landlord, who gave me back my July rent money (just peeled a bunch of hundreds off the stack he was carrying in his pocket… *man* do I wanna be a land(slum?)lord), and then when the people came by to view the building, the wife of the couple gave her some pats.

The real estate agent came by with the couple (as previously mentioned just one sentence ago) and asked me if I was moving at the end of the month, to which I said yes. She escorted the couple inside, told them to “please excuse the mess,” and did the mini-tour.

1. “Please excuse the mess?” That’s my line to say, if I’m going to say it at all, not yours. Stupid woman. Not only that, but my apartment happens to be cleaner right now than any of the other times she brought someone through it, so I kinda have to wonder what she said to them then. Hah!

2. When she saw me picking up the cat and wandering outside, she asked if I wanted her to lock up, or if I was just going to be out front. Apparently she didn’t notice my lack of shoes, or the fact that I had my cat with me. Few places like to have you wander in with a cat, regardless of whether or not it’s leashed.

3. She left *yet another* stupid business card in my apartment. As a result of the “fun” of having these people constantly through, I officially hate real estate agents. Utterly. Every single one of them has left a business card as they’ve gone through. This lady, who’s been through my apartment herself probably somewhere around a half-dozen times, has left me business cards *every single time.* I wish I could build an effigy of business cards beside her for-sale sign that’s on the front lawn and burn them as I dance and cackle merrily. I hate that woman.

I hate that woman because of the business card forest in my apartment, and because the appointments she made to show the building were never convenient for me (who remembers my rant about the 10 a.m. Saturday appointment?!), and they were never something I or anyone else in the building got to approve. Rather, it was something of which we were *informed*, which annoys me. My lease states that my landlord can enter my apartment anytime between 8 a.m. and 8 p.m. — *with my approval*. When my landlord would call and mention he had someone to look at the apartment, he always phrased in the form of, “is that okay with you?” Sure, he probably meant it less than sincerely, but if I had a valid reason to say no, he’d have to accept that. The lease so states.

But Ms. Real Estate Agent For Whom The Elements Themselves Obey… oh, no. So long as it was convenient for her agents and her clients, regardless of whether it was 10 a.m. on Saturday or 7 p.m. on a Tuesday night, bah! I had really hoped that, now that I was into the home stretch of this whole moving/being stuck in this apartment thing, I wouldn’t have to see her again. If only. šŸ˜› Bah again!

And yes, I know I don’t have to leave the apartment when it’s being showed (at least not by her or her agents), but I don’t really like being around strangers when they’re viewing and evaluating my stuff. I’m sure they’re not really doing that, that they’re looking at the building and trying to x-ray vision its structural integrity and so on, but regardless… don’t judge me ’cause I have a huge teddy bear on my bed, or a basket of laundry on the floor. I have my reasons, dammit! šŸ™‚

I want to knit and work on a cross stitch and read and game and watch tv and pester my kitten… I can’t wait until the new place with its tile floors and its vast amounts of space and its nooks and crannies for me to fill with all of my crap and the kitten to run and play… whee! I can throw things and they will bounce all over and Thena will run and chase them and maybe even have fewer places to hide things… one of the things I’m looking forward to the most when I start moving things out of my apartment is finally finding out just where the heck Thena’s been stashing all of her toys. There weren’t near as many as I assumed under my computer desk last I looked.

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