I woke up bright and early at 10 am yesterday to run around the city trying to persuade different government employees that I am who I say I am. I first went to the Social Security office in Logan Square, then the DMV in Central Chicago where they sent me to the SS office downtown, where they laughed in my face and told me to try something else.
I think my best bet in getting a new ID is calling the DMV in RI and asking them to fax a copy of my old one downtown. What a pain in my tucus. I need an ID by the 24th if I want to make good my ticket to Florida.
That’s right, folks. I’m getting out of this his windy city and onto sunnier shores. I’ll be going to Florida to see a whole boat load of family from the 24th-29th. I couldn’t be more excited… i just need Identification for my flight.
Anyways, I woke up fairly early, fairly shorted on sleep considering my late night. I took a nap later on after dinner. Laid down and I was out like a light. I woke up ready to start my day again at 3 am and watched a movie with Celia. She fell asleep and when the credits rolled I thought I’d give my bed another try.
I laid down and was wrapped in blissful thoughts of how lovely everything has been here in Chicago. I thought to myself ‘if a meteor crashed down through the ceiling and killed me instantly I could die happy with all the goodness I have had in this life.’
Then through the haze of my purring content I heard the whirr of my roomate nick’s space heater blasting away while he is fast asleep. I thought of how our electric bill must be tripled because he keeps it on full blast, even while unconscious, at least 12 hours a day.
You must be thinking WHAT THAT’S RIDICULOUS WHOS GONNA PAY FOR THAT. He’s not, that’s for sure. Despite my months of complaining and pettitioning for him to change his many selfish ways or move out, he has not changed nor has he ever paid rent in full and on time since living at Weirder Park.
The excessive heating thing is not something we can complain about anymore. Nick has been in and out of the hospital with pneumonia for the past week. His mother was here yesterday, returning him from the emergency room once again with an armload of vitamin water and hundreds of dollars of antibiotics and pain killers.
I came close to grabbing his mother by the shoulders, looking sincerely in the eyes and pleading “PLEASE, don’t let your sun leave me stranded with all of his debt. I have enough of my own.” Then I thought, she’s got hers too. My telling her how much heartbreak and anxiety, how many sleepless nights I’ve had over his apathy and irresponsible selfishness, would not make her feel good about her son and it likely still wouldn’t make him pay his bills.
And to you, blog reader, don’t bother telling me I need to get on this guys case like I don’t know. Believe me, I try. I am not the only other person who lives in this apartment, and surely not the only one who cares. My friends away from home all have been waiting for the day that this bloodsucking friend will remove himself from our lives.
You know, he does clean the house alot. Constantly, really. Like Celia says, he’s not just a bump on the log. BUT, if I could afford a maid, I wouldn’t have so many roommates.
Nick is supposedly moving out tomorrow, now that he has been out of work for two weeks with pneumonia and obviously can’t pay rent. He tried to tell me today that he won’t be paying rent for this month because he’s leaving as soon as possible. So suddenly. Six days into the month. Now that, for the first time in months, I don’t have people vying for a spot in this apartment, he is leaving. Does he expect us to find someone to pay his full months rent without actually living here for a full month?
Alright, enough complaining. What will I do now? It’s 7:30 in the morning and I can’t go back to sleep because I will give myself an ulcer tossing and turning about bills.
I guess I’ll just leave you with a photo… do you want one of me or of something absurd? well, lets see now.
