Last night was the first night I slept on the cot, but I didn't catch anything. Woke up several times in the night and looked around for bugs, but didn't see anything.
I made an appointment with the legal people for Nov. 2nd. Want to ask them what my rights are in terms of moving out, but not sure I want to wait another nine days.
Tried to roast my car and my bathroom yesterday, but I couldn't get it above 110 degrees. Will need a bigger, better heater from Wal-Mart if I want to create a thermal chamber.
My stress level is going down, but not because anything is getting solved. I have to keep reminding myself that life could be much worse, that not being able to "live" in my apartment is not a big deal at all. There is much to be learned from this ordeal. In order to function, I need to feel like life is still good, that there is still joy to be reaped from each day.
I feel as if I am being robbed--robbed of time, robbed of comfort (that I am paying for), robbed of energy, of peace of mind, of academic energies, of the ability to take a girl back home. Robbed of my life, like an addiction does. But I need to combat this resentment by remembering that this too shall pass, that future consciousness will be all that much better because of this experience, that the goodness of life is derived not from having a comfortable place to go home to at night, but from something more transcendent, more zen-like, deep below the surface of the ocean.
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