Good Things

Countdown to fall semester: eighteen days

Remember how I say that my new motto is something along the lines of "make each day better than the last"?

Yesterday, my friends, was an excellent day.

After trying to call our landlord twice yesterday morning (around 10:30 and then again an hour later), I held off for a while and tried again around 1. I couldn't get him to answer the phone, and since it's not an emergency I was calling about or anything along those lines, I decided that I would wait until evening to try to call again -- perhaps he had the day off, perhaps he left his phone at home, etc. If I couldn't get him in the evening, I was going to give up for the day and just try again today. Ladies and gentlemen, it's not like I don't have free time.

In the meanwhile, the former girlfriend was getting ready to return to Wichita, as you know, because her appointment to look at an apartment was at 2. When she left, I settled down here in my Man Cave and began more work on editing my book. I kept my phone next to me on my desk as I worked, because I knew the landlord would call back if he saw my number come up on his phone -- he always does. That's another reason I didn't leave a voicemail message; I figured if he didn't answer, he was more than likely too busy to do so. By this point, I'd already had half a pot of coffee, and any apprehension I'd originally had about talking to him was gone. Like, completely gone. Which in itself felt freeing, really.

Around 1:45, my phone rang, and it was him. Perfect.

I discussed the situation with him, told him the former girlfriend was moving to Wichita to be closer to school, but I was staying here, and asked if there needed to be a new lease drawn up, if there was any money that needed to change hands deposit-wise, or what-have-you.

"No, I don't think any money has to change hands or anything like that," he told me. "Surely you two have been there longer than a year, right?"

"Yep; two years last month."

"So you folks are on the month-to-month then," he said. "No need to do any more paperwork then. She's leaving, but you're not, and all you two want to do is take her off the agreement so she's no longer legally responsible for anything?"

"Yep, that's right."

"Okay, well, all I really need then is a letter that says she's putting everything in your name for the responsibility involved, and then no money has to change hands; that way you could pay her back the deposit yourself if that's what you wanted to do. All I really need is the letter to put in your file -- for my records -- and I'm fine with it."

Awesome. Best-case scenario. Never let it be said that this guy hasn't done everything he can for us over the years to make our living experience here as smooth and easy as possible. Hell, he even hoses off the air conditioner unit for us occasionally to keep it running efficiently and strongly.

I thanked him, told him we'd get on that ASAP, and hung up. As I did, I felt a huge ball of stress lift from my shoulders. As long as I can pay for it, which shouldn't be a problem for the far foreseeable future -- at least another year or so -- I will keep my place to live, with very minimal action required to do so. Nothing could have made me happier, and I wanted to jump up and down.

I texted the former girlfriend to tell her that I got things taken care of and that I'd tell her the details once she got back, and she responded by telling me that she really liked the place she looked at and had formally put in her application to get it. Whether that means she'll get it or not remains to be seen, obviously, but generally the application at most places, I've found, is just the paperwork formality version of "hey, in another day or two you can sign the lease." Let's hope so, for her sake; the days are counting down before we both have to return to school.

So, with one possible problem averted and the second possibly in the process of being averted, I was feeling pretty good. I went down to get the mail, and found a large box sitting in front of the downstairs door. From my friend Amber, back home in West Virginia. Inside was two 2L bottles and six cans of the fabled Blue Raspberry Crush that I cannot find anywhere in the state of Kansas.

Those of you who know me well know that I'm not a big soda drinker; I tend to stick to coffee, water, and cheap -- but decent -- beer. That's my wheelhouse, so to speak. But when I find a soda I like, or, usually, one I really love, it's inevitably yanked from store shelves within a year or discontinued entirely, or it's limited availability makes it so scarce that I'm unable to find it after the first or second time I get it. Case in point, the beloved sodas from my college years: Pepsi BLUE, Sobe Mr. Green, dnL, Mountain Dew Pitch Black, etc. The reason I like the Blue Raspberry Crush so much is that it's Pepsi BLUE in a different can/bottle. The formula may be a little different, but it tastes to me almost like an exact replica. And, of course, since I liked it, it was available here in Kansas for about a week before it disappeared.

When it disappeared, I was pissed. I sent out an APB to many friends in many states, including here as well as back home in West Virginia, to find me some and ship it my way in exchange for a few of my tie-dye shirts I make -- but no luck. Finally, my friend Amber found some in a Save-A-Lot store back home and got it for me, shipping it to me in a box. She said I didn't have to send her any of my tie-dyes and that she was happy to do it, but I am, of course, going to do something nice for her to make up for it.

So, let's recap so far:

1. Housing problems pretty much solved for me.
2. Moving problems for the former girlfriend getting solved soon, hopefully.
3. I just received a big box of soda.

The day was looking really good at that point, and it was barely 3PM. So, with a newfound sense of elation, I sat down and continued editing my book -- I had about 100 pages left to edit, and needed to wrap up the epilogue, about the author, and special thanks sections before I could put in the page numbers, and start readying the table of contents.

2.5 hours later, around 5:30, I finished the edit of the book. The actual manuscript now is at about 95% of what it will be when the book will go on sale later this month, and aside from a second read-through to proofread for spelling and grammatical errors, and to make sure the formatting is all correct, the actual text of the book is done and I don't expect to make any more major changes to it. Before the extra sections (such as the introduction, epilogue, etc.) the book is around 475 pages -- about 125 pages longer than I expected it to be -- but I can't trim it down much more than that without sacrificing key elements of the ongoing story within it. I've already changed a lot of wording, taken out entire paragraphs and pages, and left out pretty much anything "personal" or things/passages that didn't directly relate to my experience at work in some capacity. For those former coworkers who may stumble across this blog (or the book itself), I've added a special passage at the end that basically tells everyone how much I miss them and wish no ill will upon any of them whatsoever -- all of us who worked together were like a big family of sorts. Dysfunctional at times, yes, but still a family, and I will always think of them as such. If it wasn't for that job or those people, I wouldn't be the person I am today.

After I finished the editing process, I created a front cover for the book from a stock photo of a shopping cart which was photoshopped to edit the colors (so that it catches the eye in Amazon's marketplace), and called myself done for the night on it. I've still got some work to do, obviously, like create the back cover as well as finish the minutiae, but if you want to see a mock-up of the front cover, I posted it last night on my Google+ account if you're friends with me on there.

The former girlfriend returned home around six with dinner from Sonic (where she bought me a grape slushie) and told me that though her prospective new apartment still had to be cleaned by the complex authority's cleaning service and had to be officially inspected by the safety coordinator guy -- apparently all apartments in complexes do this after someone moves out -- she should be able to know whether she'll "get" the place either today or tomorrow. I told her about the conversation I had with the landlord of this place, and we drafted up a handwritten copy of the letter we'll both sign and send once it's been typed and printed. I'll pay her $750 to make up for the deposit when she leaves, and everything will be finished when it comes to her and this place. She's not going to send the letter, though, until she signs her new lease (obviously). After that, the only thing that will be left to do will be to figure out what we're doing with the cable account -- the only bill/account that's actually in her name. It may end up being switched into my name, or she may transfer it to the new place and I'll open a new account with the cable company here (after all, all they'd have to do, really, is leave the switch on).

So with everything looking good, I was able to relax a lot last night. And then, to top it off, I got the news that storms were going to roll through -- real storms, for the first time in two months. Roll through they did; we finally got about two inches of rain last night, and got thunder and lightning until long after I went to bed around 11:30. It was nasty enough to where we moved the cars in case the hail that Wichita got may have hit us as well. It didn't, but right now, at 11AM, it's still only 79 outside -- a far cry from the 110 it was here two or three days ago, so I'll definitely take that. The rain is supposed to continue through Sunday or so, and while it's supposed to be hot during and after that, it's barely going to breach 100 for the next ten days. This is good, because if we keep getting rain like this, I'll be able to mow the grass one last time before the former girlfriend moves out and takes the mower with her.

Things are still looking up, as you can see. I'm no longer as frazzled about what the future may hold -- nay, if anything, I'm excited.