The snow is coming down hard outside and I'm getting nervous about my move. There have already been so many hitches to getting into this place. The first being that someone swiped up the unit we wanted and Katrina had to go on her own to check out two others. Then they misspelled my name when doing my credit check and came back saying that I had no credit, which freaked me out. Then, they made us go out to Bushwick nowhere to sign the lease, told us upon arrival (after we had cut the cashier's check that the landlord required) that the landlord also required added rent for the two days we'd be moving in early. Then, finally, the past few days, I've had to chase down the key to the deadbolt on the door, only to find out that the tenants in this building are allowed to put their own locks on after moving in and that the super doesn't necessarily have to have a copy. So this meant that no one actually knew where the key was, despite the fact that someone had to have it since they let Katrina into the apartment. Luckily, my raising a stink about it with the Realtor and the super, gleaned some results. They're going to break the old lock and put a new one on for us. This seems unnecessary but if they're willing to do it I won't complain. Especially since the super mentioned that I'd probably need to go to a locksmith if the Realtor didn't end up having the keys.
All this aside, I can't wait until next week, when I feel human again and am settled. Then, I plan to start writing about things that have been on my mind with regards to music, music careers and fame in particular. A little preview, I always find myself asking myself why it is that when I read an article about some successful musician, I get resentful instead of inspired. The answer is multi-faceted but I've spent the week sort of coming to grips with it. Pretty soon, I'll be able to articulate my thoughts on it but at the moment, my head is too full with stuff regarding the move...like the fact that I have a mountain of boxes, both packed and unpacked in both rooms of my apartment, and the fact that I only have two friends coming to help move and I'm hoping against hope that it'll be enough, and lastly, I have the image in my head of me trying to slide a piano across a slippery slushy sidewalk further contributing to its eventual demise and the inevitable exposure of the notion that keeping that piano any longer might just be effing ridiculous.
I must sleep now because I have to go to a physical therapy appointment in the morning for my knee...8:30 in the morning...why do I do these things to myself?
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