Running With Scissors

So I checked my bank account today on one of the computers a work (shh...my little secret). Okay, $15.98 phone bill paid to Primus Canada (greedy bastards), preregistration fee paid to Queen's (greedy bastards), payment for new hamster and lunch with brother (greedy bastard) and... what the heck?

Who wrote this check?! Some greedy bastard out there is stealing my hard-earned cash! Curse you Primus!

It took me until 10:30 tonight to figure out that I had indeed written that check, (three months ago), to pay for the rent over the summer on the apartment in Kingston. Yes, will have to look after myself next year: no more cafeteria, no more frosh coddling, no more tolerant professors and dons.

Just me. And five cruel housemates. Just kidding I ruv them... except Lydia. Eat my fist! Ha ha, who's a pig now? Oh right. Me.

But seriously, if I can't ever remember writing a check for such a large amount of money, how will I survive myself? I'm going to forget to eat dinner (it's happened). I'm going to make the oven explode (yet to occur, although I did set myself on fire when baking cookies once). I'm going to forget all those elementary safety rules I learned in kindergarten and hurtle down Princess Street with a pair of scissors in each hand.

Naw, just panicking a bit because I'll be moving back to Kingston in less than three weeks. I'll survive in my own blundering way, bruises and scrapes included.

$340 a month, minus utilities. Greedy bastards.