Death by furniture, it shall be

I survived. My apartment turned out to be unlocked, so after greeting the neighbors and convicing them to buzz me in the gate we were in business. I don't get my key until today though, so if you want to steal a blender just go by my new apartment and walk right in. Please don't let the cat out.

New apartment is better in every way except it's cold. It's colder in the apartment than it is outside, and there's no heater. But whatever. I can see actual trees and the Hollywood sign from my balcony and I have fancy new hardwood floors.

My neighbors used to sit on their stoop and drink forties while they played poker and looked at pictures of naked women and shouted to each other over the sound of horns honking and the same church hymn ringing out ever hour to drown out the sound of the technicians running tests at the car alarm installment facility.

Now my neighbors are gay men and cosmopolitan Asian couples with tiny dogs who walk serenely down the street and chat over the hushed tones of traffic as it glides gently by.

I can jog now, is my point.

But not today because I'm exhausted. And my apartment is in chaos because although my friends were troopers about getting the stuff in the apartment, they really didn't give a damn where they put it and weren't about to help me get organized. And I still have to clean the old apartment and get some food. My refrigerator contains one beer, and empty Papa John's box and a half-full two liter of Coke.

But I survived.