Accomplishing Escapism

I got sent to the Newberry Library to do some research for an attorney in my dad's office.  The moment I stepped into that building, I started composing an entry in which I proclaimed my undying love for this big, beautiful building.  It's white and marble and full of light, with these huge staircases that are so tremendous I just wanted to sit on them all day.  The man checking IDs was friendly and helpful.  I knew that somewhere, in the upper floors, the stacks were waiting for me.  Plus it sits next to this lovely park I never even knew existed.

And then I actually tried to obtain the book I needed.

I should say, I knew I wouldn't be able to check out this book.  I was fully aware that I would have to photocopy
the pages that I needed.  I was armed with the title, author, call number, and page numbers.  I figured I would walk in, pay my standard ten cents a page, and take the train home.  But it was not to be.  First, they issued me a day pass, rather than a long-term one, without explaining to me that that was what I was getting.  (I still have no idea how to obtain a longer-than-one-day pass, even though I followed their website's procedure.)

To actually get the book I needed to submit a call number request and have it brought to me, and this was only after I had to wait to be assigned a seat in the reading room.  Then it turns out you can only photocopy up to 30 pages out of one book.  Which is fine, whatever, I'm sure there's some sort of waste prevention going on there.  And then they wouldn't let me make my own photocopies, I had to fill out ANOTHER request with my page numbers on it.

THEY CHARGED ME FORTY CENTS A PAGE.  FORTY CENTS. THE FEDERAL COURT DOES NOT EVEN CHARGE THIS MUCH.  IT COST ME TWELVE DOLLARS TO MAKE THESE COPIES.

And seriously, the staff in the reading room acted like I was this huge imposition on them.  Like making my photocopies was this MASSIVE imposition EVEN THOUGH it's THEIR JOB.  

No one told me when my copies were ready, the guy at the register was a snot, and they took my card away when I left.  Because writing "SEPTEMBER 23RD ONLY" on it was not enough.

I just felt like, the whole time I was there, I was treated like an inconvenience.  And it's supposed to be this big-deal library, with fantastic archives and rare materials and I'm sure it has all that.  But damn, are they stingy about letting you see it.

I went to see two apartments yesterday with my supposed future roommates, and I learned two very valuable things: 

1. My budget concerns are Not The Same as theirs, and

2. They are both ready to move yesterday.

I'm frustrated, because I definitely talked to Rachel and made absolutely clear that the job I will be starting pays $8.25 an hour, and that my price range for rent was going to be between $300 and $400 a month.  One of the places we saw yesterday was $1900 and the other was $1800, neither of which included utilities - apparently Rachel never communicated my financial concerns to the third girl who's involved in all of this (a friend of Rachel's from work who I have met all of twice), and Natasha was looking for places starting at $1500 and moving way up from there.  When I mentioned my concerns Natasha got snippy, throwing out a "Wll, I didn't know we had such tight money restraints" etc.  Which pissed me off, because it's a valuable concern and even though I had thought Rachel and I were agreed on our price range, she obviously didn't tell Natasha.

The second concern I have is that I am simply not ready to move.  I've been home for just over a month, and the idea of rushing out of my parents' home is extremely stressful to me.  I don't intend to live here forever, but the timeline Rachel and I had discussed implied to me that we wouldn't actually be moving until sometime in the fall.  By then I would be ready - I'd have a bit of money saved up, I'd be acclimated to being in town, and so forth.  And now they're both ready to fork over the deposit for this place, and move in like next week, and I simply cannot do that.

I'm angry and a little hurt by the fact that I thought Rachel and I were on the same page, and we're obviously not.  The fact that I talked to her about my constraints and concerns, and the fact that they are being ignored, makes me feel like I'm a tagalong on this whole venture and that it's really about what THEY want (which is a little insulting because I was the one who first brought up the idea of living together with just Rachel, and Natasha is a last-minute addition). 

I'm not looking forward to the conversation I have to have with them today, because they were SO in love with the place we looked at.  But on top of the money and timeframe, it would land me with an hour commute to work, there aren't any grocery stores in the area and none of us has a car, and they don't allow pets, I have solid reasons why this is a bad choice for me.  I dropped the ball a bit when I didn't communicate this to them yesterday, but frankly I didn't want Natasha up in my face again after her shit-fit about my salary.  I'm going to tell Rachel that we're in vastly different places and that I think it would be better if the two of them looked for something to suit their needs, and I'll sit tight until October or November when I can do this without causing massive emotional and financial trouble for myself.  Which I think is frankly more than fair.

I was going to post a big long thing here about a horrifying nightmare I had last night, and a mini-rant about how some of the rules animal shelters have set up are ridiculous, but then DW totally ate my entire post.  So, to sum up:

1. Had a nightmare last night of trying to save Dan (my friend who's been causing all the drama) from a shark attack, not being able to, and finding him drowned and dead.  Have determined that this means my brains want me to talk to him, even though I don't think it's in my best interest.  It's apparently causing me anxiety, so I have to try and do SOMETHING about it.

2. Went downtown today with my friend Ed and his Bitchface Girlfriend (for anyone who heard this story, that's the girl who accused me of being a homewrecker last summer.  Today we apparently decided we were going to ignore that incident).  It was fun except for Bitchface, who has an annoying tendency to try and lecture me about things I already know about (yes, I DO know that it is best to buy surgical steel body jewelry, CAN YOU COUNT THE PIERCINGS IN MY HEAD, WOMAN).  We stopped at the Chicago Humane Society, who told me I couldn't adopt a particular dog (this dog, to be precise) because she was considered "high risk," and I'd never owned a dog by myself before.  Never mind that I have EXTENSIVE experience with rescue dogs, or that I worked in a bording center for three years with dogs ranging from mild to monster, or that I currently share space with a 50 pound hound that's a bundle of neuroses.  Also never mind the fact that the rules don't appear to apply once you get to the interview phase of adopting, since they call references and quiz you deeply about your background.  They wouldn't even let me PLAY with this dog.  I was kinda peeved.

3. Had a lovely evening in with my boyfriend, in which we ate tasty pastas, watched Rome, and I got some painting done.  I'll tell you about the hobby stuffs later, when I'm not so desperate for sleeeeeeps.