Pyung has just informed me that we need to be out of the apartment by the 28th, not the 31st, which really isn’t very many days different but sort of is. I think I am going to have to move out of here and into the boys’ place in the barrio. A late night anxiety attack sort of shut down my Santa Monica option when I briefly decided to move back home and felt that it was necessary to send the obligatory “uh, I’m not moving in with you” email ASAP. Future roomie was cool and understanding, though when I wrote her back the next day trying to renege on my renege, she was understandably freaked and I have yet to hear from her. So it looks like that’s a bust. My endearing eccentricities just haven’t sunk in yet, I’m sure.

Tonight I ate pasta salad that I made the other day in preparation of the night like tonight when I would come home and be hungry. It was delicious. I am a forward-planning adult.

In other news, heather just got here and we are going to go get gelato and listen to one of the backstock boy’s bands sing. Farewell.