…and then some

Forward


Last night was my first night alone in the new place (jessica stayed with me the first night). I don’t really remember it. I guess I slept well. I woke up feeling… awake, as I imagine it should be. I hope tonight would be the same, only this time I will have to wake up a little early because I have work in the morning. It will be my first time going to work while living… on my… own. I still feel weird saying that.

I saw Eagle Eye tonight. It was a good movie, though it was strikingly similar to War Games II, which I saw a few months ago.

I never mentioned it but I play MySpace Mobsters. Guess I never brought it up because more pressing things needed attention. That, and I usually don’t broadcast anything that involves me using… MySpace. I honestly do hate MySpace, though I have found the Mobsters application to be quite fun, and it’s still not nearly as horrible as Facebook. Don’t even get me started on Facebook.

If I had more energetic motivation, I’d take the time to explain how Mobsters works, but it’s not important enough right. I’m just tired….

…I’m actually… quite hungry, too. I know I shouldn’t eat right before going to bed, but I feel I need at least a little something. You know how when you haven’t had enough to eat, and the hunger gradually moves on to slight pain? It’s kinda like that. Not so much “pain”, though, but definitely discomfort. I could definitely use a snack of some kind.

Speaking of snacks and eating, I still don’t feel at home here. I know it’s still all new but when I go into the kitchen, or any other part of the house other than my room, I feel like I shouldn’t be touching anything or going through anything. Any cabinet I open or any item I use I feel like I’m being nosy or invasive. I realize that I live here and that I have all the right in the world to use the kitchen whenever I want to, but I’ve still not grasped that concept. Like right now, I want to go into the kitchen, get my leftover pizza out of the fridge, heat some up in the microwave, and leave the plate on the counter and deal with it later… I’m sure nobody would care so long as I truly did deal with it later, but I feel like I shouldn’t even get anything out in the first place.

Oh, and let me talk about the microwave. I used it earlier. I’m really uncomfortable using it. Actually, I hate it. It doesn’t have numbers. It only has a dial that you turn, and though there is a digital display, I’ve only been able to set the timer by tens (ie: ten, twenty, thirty seconds, etc). I really don’t like this at all. For years I have always used 16, 25, 34, 43, 52, 61, 106, 115, etc… For years the digits have added up to 7. It really, seriously bothered me that I had to set something to 50 seconds. I couldn’t even set it to 70 seconds just to ease my mind because it would turn into 1:10 if I turned it that far. I think the only thing I could do is 2:50 for a frozen burrito or something. I know I’m OCD about it but c’mon… I’m sure there is some way to set the time in ones and not only tens.

I’m gonna go find out right now, because I’m actually hungry enough to have a piece of pizza.

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