Okay. So I am going to spend a few minutes bitching and complaining even though I know that I am the person responsible for everything I am bitching and complaining about. I get it. This does not undermine my desire to bitch and complain, however. I took it upon myself to pack all my shit in a moving truck and hike 3500 miles across the country with my boyfriend. I get it. I knew such an undertaking would result in chaos and disorder for a period of my life. I get that too. I underestimated how difficult it would be to reorganize having packed nearly all of my belongings over six months ago. I also underestimated how long it would take to get things organized and situated within the tiny apartment in order to unpack. I guess I really had no idea until I actually did these things. I do know myself. I do know that disorder and chaos for extended periods of time drive me batty. I have been doing breathing exercises and working to relax through this transition. As the chaos gradually turns to order, I have been moderately successful in these exercises.
Yet in the one area where disorder drives me the most insane is paperwork. I cannot stand out of order paperwork. I cannot stand not knowing how much I owe exactly, how much I have exactly, where proper tax documents are, etc. I have taken to keeping all tax documents online in an effort to streamline this process and have been successful. But this year is a mess. All my stuff is spread between four boxes. There isn’t anywhere to put anything. I don’t know what I need, and I need to apply for scholarships and financial aid to two extremely expensive institutions. On top of everything, both of these institutions require applications completed ONLINE. Small problem. No ONLINE. No INTERNETS until next Friday. One school’s papers are due that Saturday. One’s are already overdue. I cannot wait until Friday to work on these applications. This necessitates running down to Starbucks to use the internets. However the paperwork required for these give us all your information including the date of last intercourse applications is back at the apartment. I get through a step. I figure out what I need. I go back to the apartment. I look for the shit. I find the shit. I come back to Starbucks. I discover another step not previously accessible. I discover new paperwork requirements. I have to go back home. I’m losing my mind with this.
Today I discovered two MORE essays I have to write for the scholarship application to Columbia. I have already written four admission essays and one scholarship essay. The scholarship essays nearly mirror the application essays in some regard, at least two of them do. For Christ’s sake, can’t they all read the same ones? Apparently not.
So apartment chaos, financial applications, and lack of internets are all making me crazy as a nutjob. I’m having batty stress dreams. I also need to find a job and try to get the publisher I have been editing for to send me more work. It’s enough to make me jump off a bridge. If the water weren’t so frigid, that might be an appealing option.