Siddity in the City

Over
I’m over my lack of fitness. I will be, for better or worse, returning to the bizarre foodstuffs I consumed a few summers ago, if you’ll recall, gymming at least four days per week, and blogging regularly about my progress. I will be thrilled when I am no longer pulling my clothes out of unflattering fat crevices when I sit down. I don’t need to be Kate Moss; I just want to not struggle getting to my third floor walkup.

Under
UPS. I believe it may stand for UnderPerformingShitheads.

I ordered an AC online last week. Yesterday, I noticed it was listed in tracking as being in process of delivery. I pack up all my gear to get home to meet it, because, foolishly, I think “If no one is home to sign, they won’t deliver it, and then I’ll have to go pick it up! Eew!” By the time I’m done packing, it’s listed online as delivered.

Shit.

I rush home. Nothing in the building foyer. I rush upstairs. Roomie is in, but there is no sign of AC. Hopefully: “Did UPS stop by?” Maybe it’s sitting in my room.

Roomie: “Nope, nobody’s buzzed today.”

Shit. Mind you, this is within 20 minutes of the alleged delivery time.

After much neighbor harrassment and a phonecall to customer service, I learn it has been left “on the front porch.”

Here I would like to inform you we have no front porch. We do have another building on the other side of ours with a front porch. I rush out.

There it is, outside, on the front porch of a totally different set of apartments. Outside. On the porch. In the almost-summer. Since when is it kosher to leave expensive appliances outside, unattended, without signature? They didn’t even try to take it to the right place. My roommate was home all day!

I fucking hate UPS.

Around
BFF is coming to town! I am painfully excited about this, because I haven’t seen her in ages (since maybe…Halloween?) and I love her dearly. She’s known me since I was 18, full of myself and awkward. We’ve been friends so long I think I sometimes take for granted we always will be. I have to let her know more often how much I appreciate her sticking around all these years.

I’ll start by taking her to Pridefest. Hee!

Key exchange via phone the other night:
Sid: Oh, that weekend you’re coming, I think that’s Pride weekend.
BFF: Pie weekend?! Really? (BFF is an awesome bakestress. Yeah, I said it. Bakestress.)
Sid: No not pie weekend, pride, gay pride. Pride weekend.

Similar, but with more banana creme.

I’ll be saving all my touristy pursuits for that one weekend though. Navy Pier, here I come!

Through
I think I’m done with dating for a while. This is not to say that I have been pursuing anyone recently. But, I’ve been noticing (and discussing with friends who could probably blog this far better than I could, *hint*) there are many people out there whose desires and sense of entitlement in seeking a mate seem to bear no relationship with what they actually have to offer. It gets on my tits, because I’m on a personal responsibility kick lately, regarding my health, my finances, my career. If something is broken, I know it’s my job to fix it. I’m not sitting here hoping someone fitter, more financially secure, and more interesting than I am will come along and miraculously choose me. (Why would they do that? That would be crazy.) I need to get where I want to be first. So until I’m in a place where I feel physically good, financially stable, and emotionally ready, I ain’t lookin’.

I’m off to procure a cheap blender with which to make allegedly divine protein smoothies.

Blech.

Happy Thursday!