Wednesday, July the 28th, 2004

And I’m hungry.

I’d made this stupid tomato/basil sauce for pasta a few days ago and it turned out very sweet. No, not awesome and yummy, sweet, as in the taste. And like the genius I am, I don’t taste these things when I make them. You know, because I am so cool and never get such things wrong. So, the last time I made spaghetti using this, it turned out waay more sweeter than it had to be. I went hungry that evening. Today, to sort of offset that, I went overboard on salting the pasta water, and the final result was everything was waay too salty.

I’m retarded, and hungry. I wish I had a bag of popcorn the size of me right about now.

Bag of popcorn.

Anyway, none of that is pertinent to what I wanted to say. I was talking to S a while earlier, and it dawned on me (for like the third time) I’m finally going to move to my own place. She was going on and on about how great it is, how messy you can be, the freedom you will have, and a lot of other fun sounding things. However there was a tinge of something in the tone that indicated there was an unsaid “but” attached to all of that. It’s like, you’d have this and that… but you’d be alone and it might not be as fun as you assumed it would?

I am getting a little queasy thinking about it. I know I want this. I at least know I want to try to change. What’s the big deal? It’s not like any of this is irreversible. Or is it?

In related news, I just sorted out accounts with a bunch of old housemates. Things are looking good. Except, the way we (don’t) do the calculations, it just seems to everyone that they’re losing money. Ah well.

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