You can't spell "apartment" without "mean"

I have an apartment...sort of. It's actually pretty sweet. Lots of open space, kick-ass AC, and a nice Belmont-esque location.

There are several caveats, however. Yesterday, my mother had to go let the Macy's people (who refused to deliver the bed at any time that was convenient for us) into the apartment. Or so we thought. Macy's assshole instead gets the key from the front desk and walks off with it. Which is problematic, because, you know, we have to move in, and thievery and such.

We get an extra key made, no problem. Then we find out they won't accept my mother's checks because my name isn't on the lease. (Even though Margot said she already talked to them.) So we'll see what wacky hi-jinx we have to go through to pay these people.

*Update* Everything is now fixed. Sigh.

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On an unrelated note, the self-destructive part of me really wants some Drank.

OMG what if we gave Ross some Drank? Would he speed up? I must test this.

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I MUST HAVE THESE.