New Home

I just moved into my new place for the rest of the summer, and this is what I’ve concluded thus far.

Pro:
-It’s not my sister’s walk-in closet.
Con:
-It’s not not not my sister’s walk-in closet.

Pro:
-The room is really big.
Con:
-The room is the attic.

Pro:
-Great view!
Con:
-Those same windows, from the hours of 10AM-4PM, transform San Francisco’s pleasant, at times balmy temperateness into choking, smothering heat, effectively serving as a Lilly-broiler.

Pro:
-Animal Lovers!
Con:
-Cat lovers, which for me generally don’t count as animal lovers per se.
The beasts: one gray, “Look away from the light, Carol anne”-esque evilly-slitted eyed Jaspar that apparently is bound and determined to coax me into a rousing game of grab-ass (honestly the fucking thing won’t stop sneaking up and trying to rub his ass against me); and a slightly, mildly bearable, recently popped its little body out of its devil mothers womb named Rosie. Rosie is calico, which we all know is pretty much the mark of Judas. But she’s kind of nice, and maybe I want her to stop ignoring me and maybe love me a little bit. No big deal.

Pro:
-It is not my sister’s walk in closet.
Con:
- Fucking finally.

PS. I was warned of the cat before I came. By warn I don’t mean for my benefit, no no, I mean the cat has asthma (“My assmar!”) and likes to play in the attic. This basically guarantees hacking coughs that, I shit you not, I am supposed to prevent. I have to check on the fucking thing if it’s in my room. That means not avoiding it.

Pro:
-The cat might die…
Con
- It would technically be my fault.