I have no idea what the hell I was thinking. Well, yes I know what the hell I was thinking: Get out of your comfort zone. Try something new. Something different. Well I went and did it, and well... it's different. Like heaven and hell are different. Like Felix and Oscar are different. Like the Giants and the Dodgers are different. Okay, the Giants and Dodgers aren't really that different (they're paid baseball players in different uniforms), but it leads me to the differences between San Francisco and Los Angeles. Naw, fuck that. This has nothing to do with either city. I just wanna bitch about the process of moving.
Why the fuck is it that the new phone company can't just turn your phone on without a hitch? Why the fuck is it that they guarantee that the repair man will come between the hours of 8 am and 7 pm. I'd love to have those kinds of starting times for work. "Hey Lee, we've got clients in tomorrow morning to start the edit." "Oh cool, I'm looking forward to it. Tell them I'll be there no later than 7 pm." Only the telephone company can get away with that shit. And so can the cable company. And the internet company. I need to get into that line of work instead of taking a week to watch and pick good takes of Coca-cola pouring into a glass. Which by the way has increased my intake of said cola about 100 fold. Damn subliminal advertising.
Why the fuck is it that there isn't a refrigerator included with my new apartment? Why the fuck does that seem like standard operating bullshit in this town? Like you look forever on Westside Rentals for an apartment, and "refrigerator" is an option. Like "parking" is an option. Cept when you don't get an included parking spot, you find one on the street. When you don't get an included refrigerator, you don't just go to Best Buy and drop it in your shopping basket and put it in your trunk and carry it up the stairs and into your apartment and plug it in. You deal with delivery schedules and prices of places you don't want to deal with and wait while the food in your cooler rots in the heat, and you wonder why in the hell somebody would want to carry around a fridge when they move from apartment to apartment.
Why the fuck is it that when the moving company says they'll be there between Tuesday and Thursday, they get there on Thursday? Why the fuck can't they just say "Your shit will be there on Thursday Mr. Musical Bee." Don't make me put everything else on hold for three days so you can call me and tell me my shit's gonna be there on the last day that you promised me it could be there. Then definitely don't bitch to me about the amount of boxes you have to carry up a flight of stairs because you were paid to do so.
Don't get me wrong. I'm loving being in weather where I can throw on shorts and a t-shirt and not worry about it. It's the difficulty of transporting your life that I don't understand. Why the fuck is that?
