OK so the apartment... not so much. Back to square one. Deal is off. No cigar. ARGH.

I need to vent about something else, something that I keep buried often but which, when it surfaces, hits me like a Mack truck. The worse part is, there is no safe way to vent about this particular thing. I can say, however, that I am beginning to marvel at men more and more. I say this not because any man has done something spectacular, but because I have become acutely aware of what it feels like to completely swallow your feelings about something for an extended length of time. When you are forced to swallow everything you're feeling, it takes its toll on you. You become callous and have to find another outlet for those feelings, which most often has nothing to do with that which you are dealing with, so you never really deal with what's bothering you. It's like trying to stuff too many people onto a subway. Maybe there'll always be a bit more room, but there comes a point where you have squished too many people into a subway car and the ride is terribly uncomfortable. All you can hope is that some people will get off at the next stop so you can have a bit of relief, some breathing room. Because if not, you're just going to have to get used to a cramped ride, which will only make you miserable. That's what it's like when you stuff all your emotions away. Maybe there's room for them, but at some point it gets too cramped inside and you need to make some breathing room so you don't go insane. I guess this is my way of making some breathing room, just talking about how I don't have any. Sigh.