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The Bang Bang Theories


So. Much. Has happened, Reader, and I’ve had plans to tell you stories about it all because of course it’s fun to bring you along on my Misfit Life with me, but somewhere along the lines here I’ve dropped off the Interwebs, mostly because have I mentioned I’m living like a gypsy lately and/or driving a lot lot lot of my day? and then Trixie Bang Bang Stories just never get told.  I’m not sure I’m ever going to get to them, either.

Shewee, that was a long opener to tell you nothing.

So I’ve been living in Florida for pert near a month now, a little longer actually because it’s been another week of work since I’ve gone back home over the 4th of July.

Time. Flies. By.  I have worked 5 weeks already, and wow, I cannot even believe it.

I really like my job. It has had it’s hiccups, mostly tech-related and then the difficulty of not knowing what you don’t know, so I don’t know. Everything takes longer when you don’t know.

I’ve been looking at rentals on and off. The cute enough stuff costs more than my Ohio Mortgage.

What I want is this:

What I can afford is this:

Which frankly just looks like some place where I’m going to be on this episode of Forensic Files:  “Girl* Checks out Camper, Never Seen Again, Until Years Later a Break in the Case Fingers** Her Killer.”

*in my Missing Persons episode, I would like to be referred to as a Girl, please – very youthful and vibrant while we’re making things up here –  and not an elderly lady who should have known better than to 1/ think she could live in a beatdown camper and actually get a restful night of sleep on that mattress, the fluids left behind only the good lawd knows, and 2/ ….well, I don’t know what number 2 is, other than it might actually have left stains on that bed at some point.

**because someone found pieces of my fingers somewhere, like in the pooping container in this camper.

What the fuck is up with that bathroom? i’ve been in tiny bathrooms, I’ve cruise-shipped enough to know the poopers can be close to the sinks, but comeon. That “vanity” is where I’m going to be getting ready in the morning? Nope.

So I still haven’t figured it out, but I’m trying to Badass what I want into existence: The nice clean place, furnished, near the water, for $700/all-in per month. Work with me, Reader, and send those vibes out to the Universe on my behalf. Oh, p.s., must love cats. The rental people, not you to send the good juju for me. Except it’s preferred if you also love cats, too, because they are soft.

I started this two hours ago, and am bound and determined to have something posted to force myself into Stella, Get Your Groove Back, and now with the Florida Sweat running down my back I believe I am going to throw on my suit and throw myself into the pyoool.



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