Straight No Chaser

Force Grip

fucking tuesday. i called my college's housing office for about the sixth time this summer, and they gave me the run-around again. i don't want to spend my senior year on the street. i don't have the energy to get my mom involved. i just want them to stop lying to me, stop putting me off on that inarticulate long-haired woman who lies, stop telling me my application is in the database when it so clearly isn't. my name is not difficult to spell, particularly when i spell it for you, out loud. if, after ten minutes of searching, you can't find it on an alphabetized list, it probably isn't there; if, after said amount of searching, you suddenly, magically do find it, i don't belive you. i don't.

people whose throats i'd like to telekinetically crush today, jedi-style:

1. that housing lady
2. andrea
3. the apparently obese, menopausal person who controls our building's air conditioning

unrelated, jacques brel's "mathilde" makes me want to dance.

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