Salad Days

I live in one hell of a dirty apartment. The habitation experience here is similar to an experiment in second-world living for the urbanite. I would move out, except I'm poor. What I'm getting at is that nothing in this apartment works right. 

The shower this morning took two weeks to get warm. I waited in the tub, letting the cold water run over my hand, rolling my eyes. It turned lukewarm and I thought this might be the warmest it would get, so I turned on the shower, and it was fucking cold. "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing!" I shouted, drawing inspiration from the Hellen Keller quote while invoking her sensory handicap. I jumped into the cold shower. 

I think this marks a new phase. 

I've been struggling a lot with blogging lately because I had the recent realization that I have nothing to be cynical about, and in my heart I am really not cynical. It is hard to be cynical when everything you want, you have. I need to figure out how to write joie de vivre without sounding like a fucking pansy. I am trying.

Oh, by the way, as I was basking in the cold shower feeling like a goddamned pioneer the cold stream turned to steam and burned the fuck out of me. Shit.