Today I Watched Other People Do Things

Dramatic Reenactment

Today, Bonnie the cleaning superstar made an appearance in 4C. She came because we have guests coming this weekend, and even though they know we are slobs, we want them to at least know we are slobs willing to throw down to give off the image that we are not slobs.

So, yeah. I didn't exactly watch Bonnie clean because that would involve me getting out of bed. But I did eventually get out of bed because the blimey fire alarm went off! That thing is LOUD! And kinda sounds like the beat to most Rihanna songs. What's my name! WHAT'S MY NAME!

So I sprung out of bed to find that Bonnie had accidentally lit our placemats on fire. I would have assumed she was merely sanitizing those gross things, but she fessed up to going all pyromaniac. Oh well. (Aside: When faced with the possibility that my apartment is burning down, I only grab my study guide. My study guide! Study. Guide. Farewell laptop! Farewell beloved objects! I'll be studying with or without you!)

First thing I watched today: People start kitchen fires!

Unfortunately for Bonnie and me, the fire alarm in my apartment is really cheap, and refused to stop ringing even after I got out of bed to open the windows. So I called Jeff because I assumed - like an ass - that the fire alarm would somehow communicate to firemen that my building was on fire. What was I thinking! No way - not in 407!

Sadly, Jeff still came by to check on things and remind me that the fire alarm doesn't communicate emergencies to anyone else besides the people who can hear it. Anyway, I don't know where I'm going with this, so I will instead bring up the time there was actually a fire in 407, and a group of girls dressed up as sexy firefighters for Halloween started posing with the truck parked outside. That was funny.

Second thing I watched today: People be landlords...

So Here's Proof I'm Definitely Delusional

Given a merit scholarship application with a fast-approaching deadline, a complex housing application, and a Business Law exam, I should have no problem keeping myself productive. But noooo!

My obsession with like apartments and shelter in general (there's definitely a subconscious motivation to my wearing a hood) always gets in the way of productivity. And this time, it's manifested itself in an unyielding desire to find an apartment for any and every set of circumstances.

And since the likelihood that any of these circumstances actually play out is slim (although the chances are fat), I might as well share my findings here so they don't go to waste.


#1. The Sale-Leaseback 
After working my parents down, I finally convince them that it'd be more lucrative for them to buy a rundown apartment in Greenwich Village or the West Village, let me spearhead a masterful renovation, and then rent it to me during my second and third years of law school. But finding an apartment suited to this context is tricky! One-bedroom apartments will be worth more everything said and done, but can I really justify the extra imaginary expense? And does the imaginary me really want the imaginary burden of having to regularly entertain my imaginary New York friends because I have more imaginary space than they all have in their real-life, mentally-sound apartments? DEFINITELY NOT. NEXT!

#2. The Obvious Choice
Doing what everybody else does is oftentimes a logical option because everybody else wouldn't be doing it if it was illogical. But now I'm faced with the totally inhospitable downtown rental market. This set of circumstances instantly makes me picture cat, rat, and squatter poop. Oh, and Murray Hill. But careful investigation indicates that perfectly amazing apartments are available for rent, and even at decent prices. So now I'm forced to deal with the whole "To roommate or not to roommate?" question, and I'm not happy about it. I didn't see The Roommate, but i know a roommate can be bad. Especially if I'm trying to study and my roommate is trying to juggle bowling balls over a pile of metal sheet pans. And once I lose my roommate, do I really want to learn how to use Craigslist? NEXT!  

#3. The Overextension 

I don't know too much about the loan market these days, but I hear banks are willing to lend out millions on toothy smiles alone. (Remember: delusional!) So the final possibility involves me taking out a sizable loan and then buying a classic seven uptown. Of course, there's the imaginary commute to think about, but my imaginary driver is aggressive and willing to be on-call outside my imaginary lofty office at all times. So that's settled. The real problem with this set of circumstances is the impact my classic seven will have on my reputation. People already accuse me of trying to reroute their flight from Punta Cana to Palm Beach. And also for planning to do work in Punta Cana. I need to show everybody how wild I am, and I hear wild is mostly just available below 59th Street. Update: Wild 75-year-old Philanthropist Passes out After Single Glass of Wine at Antonucci! Looks like I have no choice but to overextend myself!

Observations from Second Semester, Senior Year

About three months before your first day of freshman year, your laziness culminates. You've come down with a case of senioritis so extreme that just thinking about how lazy you've become is incapacitating. But then you're thrown into the academic trenches, and all the carelessness you once knew evaporates into a musty fog hanging above some overcrowded fraternity party.

Unless you actually become a homeless person, will you ever get to live like a bum again?

Yes! Yes you will! It's called second semester, senior year. And though it sounds hard to believe, after three-and-one-half years of pre-test testiness and unemployment upset, senioritis will find a way to tackle your intellectual immune system once again.

Here are some telltale signs that senioritis has spread among the senior class with a vigor swine flu would be jealous of.

First, my peers and I have started to notice that the weekend has a very distinct second wind. In fact, the bipartite week we used to know is now totally irrelevant. In our minds, there's the work week, which runs Monday through Wednesday afternoon, the weekend, which kicks off Wednesday night, and then the Oh Shit! It's only Friday? period of flux, which starts Friday morning and lasts until Trivia Night on Sunday. As far as we're concerned, the week lasts five days, and those two extra days are merely fortuitous glitches in the time-space continuum.

Second, my peers and I have started to complain about the most absurd things. Like one time, I heard a friend say, "I feel like all I do is put on outfits. I'm so sick of putting on outfits." And then another time, a different friend complained, "I do want to go to the movies, but I don't feel like moving." Oh, and then there was the time yet another friend growled that her "damn spa treatment" was "running late," and would "totally get in the way of dinner plans." Keep in mind, during the zenith of my academic intensity, frivolities like dinner were usually optional.

I could think of more anecdotes - "I think I'm going to Aspen next week"; "I haven't been outside in two days" - but I'm too goddamn lazy.

Dear Santa,

For Christmas, I would like your career.