Moving Day: The New City Awaits!

I moved into my new room. It smaller than I thought. No closet. At least it comes with 2 beds. Both singles. The owner thought to leave 2 beds in case my parents ever need to crash for the night. Even though my owner is technically my aunt, I’m scared if I keep calling her aunt then it’d get confused with the other deaf aunt at home. So for now, it’s just ‘the owner’. The desk is also tiny. I’m unsure if I could fit both monitors and a keyboard on there. Work finally begins tomorrow. The orientation schedule showed Day 1 as us learning how to set up all of our equipment. Day 2 is supposed to be our actual introduction to the company with all the new hires doing ice-breakers with each other. I hate that. I thought after graduation I wouldn’t need to deal with such trivial activities anymore.

“Tell us an interesting fact about yourself!”
“2 truths and a lie.”
“Describe yourself in 3 words.”

Those repetitive questions each year would make you believe I’ve had some sure-fire answers on deck by now, but it’s amazing how I draw a blank on them exactly the same each time.

On happier news, I can finally call myself a city girl again. Back in my home city should be easy to navigate, but traffic grew over the years. I’m absolutely terrified to drive anywhere in fear of another car accident. I wait till 10pm to finally roam the streets for food. Again, lucky for me that we’re in the city, a good handful restaurants don’t close until midnight or 2 in the morning.

Also, I think I’m going to get a gym membership while I’m here. To work out? HAH NO. So that way I have a 24 hour place where I can freely poop and shower. Now that I moved in, I have poop anxiety. I wait until night so I can go to a fast food restaurant just to use their toilets. I have an irrational fear that when I sit on the toilet at this new house, I’ll be so fat and shatter it when I sit. OR my shit will clog the toilet and the pipes will burst. I’m also scared to shower there. I have a tendency to take long showers (~1hr) and I’m scared they’ll get mad if I run up the water bill. If I shower at a public gym, I can waste as much water as I want.

I originally wanted to move out so I didn’t need to be connected to family anymore. When family is involved, it’s easier to be asked for a favor. I want to finally be alone and just worry about myself. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. It went as how I imagined. When I got here, the owner offered me lunch. I declined. She offered snacks. I declined. She offered ice cream. I declined. Declining again and again made me feel bad. Sometimes people offer from their truest heart and not just as a polite gesture, so slowly, I accepted when she asked again. Before, she asked if I can eat stewed fish. I told her no because, truthfully, I don’t know how to eat fish with bones still inside. I don’t know how to take them out and always just impatiently shove the fish and its bones down my throat. So, the owner took out a filet of salmon from the freezer, marinated it, and cooked it for me. Of course, she made it seem as though she was cooking it for everyone and it’s just a coincidence that it was the next thing she prepared. I didn’t have it in me to decline anymore and accepted the food. She seemed happy. She prepared me a plate and even fried an egg on top for me.

Short post. Possibly less common posts in the future. Maybe until everything gets settled then I can have time to type. Unless people are okay with short posts like in the beginning of my diary that occurred every other day, or wait for a longer post that comes once a week. I don’t know. None of you are as responsive in the comments as before. FUCK IT. I do what I like. I do what I want to do. In a blog about myself and for myself, I should do whatever I want.