If I Had A Pin I'd Pop That Housing Bubble

I found myself getting tired pretty early last night, and, seeing no reason to stay up, went to bed at around midnight.
This resulted in me getting more than eight hours of sleep, which is a pretty rare occurrence during the week, as five to six hours tends to be the norm.
Once I did get up, after sort of struggling to stay asleep, I looked out to see that it was rainy, depressing, and just generally miserable outside, so I opted to forego the morning walk.
While I was making breakfast the cute Asian girl from my dentist’s office called to ask if I could come in at 11:30, which, of course, I could.
I opted to finally shave, making use of the sample “Schick Quattro Midnight” I’d gotten in the mail from Safeway the other day.
When I took it out of the package I checked to see if there was any sort of cover over the cartridge.  There didn’t appear to be one, but once I actually took a swipe down my cheek and felt what I initially thought was the smoothest shave in history as the blades glided along with no resistance whatsoever, I realized that there, in fact, was a plastic cover over the blades.
Upon removing the cover, I was treated to a much more conventional shave that was a significant letdown in contrast to that brief illusory moment in which I thought I’d found the greatest disposable razor in the world, one that could effortlessly power through even the densest, albeit patchy, jungle growth.
Ah well.
Once I got to the dentist’s office I was greeted by the pretty girl with the nice rack who’d been glaring at me hatefully last time.  She wasn’t nearly so hostile-looking this time around, though she also wasn’t even close to being as cheerful and friendly as the pretty Asian girl.
While I was waiting, the girl with the nice rack made a phone call to someone to ask if she’d be up to working the next day after getting all of her wisdom teeth pulled.
It struck me as odd that someone who works in a dentist’s office would call someone else to ask for advice about dental matters.  After all, wouldn’t he be likely to be the one pulling them?
As details unfurled I learned that the dentist had referred her over to someone else (the same doctor he’d referred me to for my extractions), but I was still unclear as to why she would ask someone else for advice.  After all, her boss is still a dentist and would, presumably, be knowledgeable about the after-effects of having wisdom teeth pulled, and would be understanding about her inability to come in and work.
I eventually learned that the girl with the nice rack was talking to her mother, and apparently is the type of person who places her mother’s wisdom over that of trained professionals (of course, that’s assuming that her mother isn’t a trained professional).
In any case, once I went in I had to have a missing filling replaced and got to briefly test-drive my new teeth, though they apparently still aren’t ready.
Evidently they need to be “processed,” though I’m not sure what that entails.  Still, next time he calls me in, I will be able to leave with them.
Once I was finished there I came home, and that was pretty much the end of my day.
It’s still pretty crappy out, so I don’t foresee myself going for a walk, though I guess anything’s possible.
Well, some things are possible, at any rate.
Going for a walk this afternoon would be disruptive, though, as I’m trying to get myself back into managing my time, making use of my PDA to do so rather than my Franklin-Covey planner.  I’d considered buying their software, but it is a bit pricey.
So far I’m doing okay, I guess.  I’m actually ahead of schedule right now, though that’s only because I’m counting writing a Threshold entry as part of the block of creative activity I have scheduled from 1:00 to 4:30, and I had lunch early, so I got started on this before 1.
I should probably set up a separate block of time for Threshold, like I used to, though, so that I can use this time for non-Threshold-related writing and/or drawing.
Of course, given the overall pointlessness of my creative endeavors the whole scheduling time to work on them would lead us inexorably back to the inevitable question of “Why/What for?”
I guess I’m just going to try to force myself to accept “Because” as an answer…
Last week I finally received the semi-official notice of the transition from apartments to condos from the management.
The details were sketchy, but they have applied for approval from whatever governing body approves/disapproves this sort of thing and anticipate that the transition should be complete sometime in early 2006.  The letter also stated that tenants will receive an undisclosed discount over what the public will be offered.
Included with a letter was a copy of the print ad they will be running to inform the public, which states that the starting price will be in the “Upper 200s.”
That is, of course, well outside of my price range, and I can’t imagine the discount bringing it much closer to my reach, so it looks like I will definitely be moving.
The thought of moving, I think, has been a major component of my continuing bad mood.
I hate moving.  I especially hate the thought that no matter where I move there’s a good chance it will be only temporary, as the insane amounts of money flowing around out here practically ensure that whatever apartment complex I move into will eventually make the transition to condos, and with the skyrocketing purchase prices easily outstripping any increases in my income, there’s no chance whatsoever that I’ll be able to afford to buy.
As it stands, I’d need to move way the hell out to West Virginia to even hope to buy a place, which is out of the question because even with only a three-day commute there’s no way I could withstand adding an extra hour of driving time one-way.
Of course, as everything here converts to condos, eventually I’ll be forced to move out there, and by that time the out of control costs of home ownership will have spilled even further into the hinterlands, leaving me exactly where I am now.
Despite the fact that I know that it would hurt people I know, I can’t help but wish that the housing bubble would just burst already.
Ah well.
In any case, pending verification that I won’t be able to afford to buy this place, it’s looking as though I’ll probably be making the move to Leesburg.  I’ve found a place that’s only $150 more a month than my current apartment and is about the same size.  The one thing in particular that I like about it is that there’s a door from the bedroom to the balcony.
Of course, that puts me a little further away from work than I currently am, but not by too much, and it does give me the advantage of living in an actual town rather than amid a bunch of loosely-affiliated housing developments and scattered strip malls full of useless shops.
In any case, I think I’m going to try engaging in some other creative pursuits, which will, no doubt, result in some major artistic breakthrough on my part…or, you know, a nap…