tea berry-blue (teaberryblue) wrote,
tea berry-blue

Tea's Life in dialogue.

So I keep having things to update about and just not quite getting around to it.

Not anything important, really. Just things.

Apartment update:
Monday night, I ran into Jeff. Here is the conversation:
Jeff: Blah blah blah appliances are in, but I need a way to get into your apartment.
Tea: Don't you have a key?
Jeff: No?
Tea: What about that time you said you were going to make a key, so you borrowed my key for four hours to go get one made? Didn't you make one?
Jeff: Um, no? So I need a key. They're coming at ten AM.
Tea: Okay, that's around when I leave for work. If I don't run into you, I'll leave it in my mailbox for you, like I did last time.
Jeff: Okay!
Tea: Just put it back when you're done.
Jeff: Okay!
Tuesday (Yesterday) I get home from work. No appliances. I call my mother furious, halfway through call, Jeff walks into front lobby.
Tea: Hold on, he's here. I'll call you back. (Hangs up)
Jeff: Oh, hey, so the guy who was supposed to put the appliances in never showed up.
Tea: (thinking) riiiiight (speaking) Oh, okay. So...?
Jeff: They'll do it tomorrow.
Tea: Same time? Ten? I'll leave the key again.
Jeff: Okay!
Last night, I send Jeff an email confirming that this is the plan.
This morning at EIGHT TWENTY, the doorbell rings. Now, this is almost an hour before I have to get up for work. While in other circumstances, I would have been delighted that they came at all and let them in, my bathroom (in which I need to shower) and my clothes are all in the room in which they need to work. So this is a little difficult. So I told the guys to come back at ten. This is NOT JEFF, but I am assuming Jeff never bothered to tell them when to come.

So at ten to ten, I leave my apartment to head to work. And I run into the maintenance guy, whose name, I learn, is Angel.

Angel happily goes upstairs with me, looks at what needs to be done, and informs me that despite a work order for two air conditioners, there is only one. However, Angel, who spoke about six words of English, seemed to comprehend what I was saying and what needed to be done a lot better than Jeff, who is clearly American-born and speaks fluent English (mostly), is now working on getting my apartment done and I am very pleased with this progress.

In other news, I went to my local grocery store last night. I am madly, madly in love with my local grocery store, which is less than a block away from my apartment, although it has two separate entries and I keep leaving by the wrong one. I have already purchased sushi and delicious caprese salad from my local grocery store.

Middle-aged mom: Do you carry fiber pills?
Grocery store lady: Fiber pills?
Middle-aged mom: Like vitamin supplements?
Grocery store lady: Oh, no, you'll need to try the pharmacy. We don't carry vitamins.
Middle-aged mom: Oh, like CVS?
Grocery store lady: Yeah. They should have them. We have a lot of fiber cereals, though.
Middle-aged mom: Oh, no, these are for my daughter. She has an eating disorder so the doctor said she needs fiber pills to make a bowel movement.
(At this point, Tea is like O_O TMI THANKS).
Grocery store lady: Oh, she's got an eating disorder?
Middle-aged mom: And the doctor says--
Grocery store lady: Yeah, yeah, I got that. Forget the stupid fiber pills. I know what you need.
Middle-aged mom: What?
Grocery store lady: You know what the best thing for an eating disorder is?
Middle-aged mom: What?
Grocery store lady: Chocolate. Lots and lots of rich, dark chocolate. Nobody can say no to chocolate!

I didn't get the mom's reaction, because I was just cracking up. Clearly the mom doesn't know when to shut her mouth and the grocery store lady's understand of an eating disorder is simplistic to say the least, but oh my god.

In other news, I bought a bed! I had no fucking clue how expensive beds were. Shit. But this is the first time in my life I have ever had a real, serious bed since I was 12 and swore off beds in favor of being a pirate. Since I (mostly) got over the pirate bit, I have only had college beds and futons. Which brings me to the next part of this post:


Pirates: TOMORROW. Tickets are safely in my purse, if anyone else wants to come, check Fandango and buy a ticket for the 11:35 show at the 42nd Street E-Walk theater.

Since I will supposedly have my new bed tonight, spiralstairs, liret (and cacophonesque if you want to crash with us), I don't think you'll need a sleeping bag, because I have an air mattress. However, if you really prefer to sleep alone and not share, bring something to sleep on/in.

I usually get off work between 6-7, but since I am taking a couple days off, I might be a tad later. I'm thinking we can either meet at my place, I need to get pirated up, and then we can get food, or we can meet for food, go back, get pirated up, and then go to movie. Either way is fine with me.



I totally cannot for the life of me remember my Monday dream. Which sucks, but what happened was I was all, "Oh, this is an awesome dream, I need to write it down!" and then by the time I was settled at work and had time to, I couldn't remember it.

My dreams from last night I don't really remember either, sadly, but I do recall that there were at least two of them and there was this bit with people sleeping on bare, scratchy mattresses. I don't know if this is some kind of anxiety dream about my bed.

That is all!
Tags: dreams, housing, life
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.