could it be ennui, Henri?
No one's here, mysteriously, and I'm realizing how much I love it. I have a wacky Internet radio station turned up unprofessionally loud. It just played 4 versions of Girl From Ipanema, one of my all-time favorite songs (the only other serious contender would be Hava Nagila. Seriously).
My landlord is being a jerk about us breaking our lease. It's only one month early, for Pete's sake. I think I've talked him into just keeping the security deposit, however, rather than the security deposit and yet another month's rent when we no longer live there. That would suck. The only thing is, if he inspects the place, no matter how carefully we clean, I just know he's going to find more stuff wrong and demand extra $$, above and beyond the security deposit. So here's my plan…we'll clean the place, leave the keys in the door, and then take off…calling the landlord from the cell phone to say, “Thanks, it's all done, bye!” and leave no forwarding address or phone number. Hell, if I'm not getting my deposit back, there's no reason to have him be able to get ahold of me, right? Right. Oh, I'm so sneaky.
And now I must go! For I don't know what to do with my life! Are you as disenchanted with this whole existence thing as I am? Well, that sounds unnecessarily melodramatic and dire. I'm not ready to DISCONTINUE existence or anything like that, it's just that no matter what happens to me, the most incredible experience, the most joyous joys, etc, some part of my brain still thinks, “Is that it?”
Au revoir, cheri! Mmmwwwah! Mmmmwwah! [double-cheeked talk show air kisses]