Monday, November 05, 2001

I am a non-person right now. I can walk to the grocery store, or phone around gathering information on apartments, but anything beyond that requires transport, and I don't have that yet.

In retrospect, yes, I should have taken the time to get my driving license while I was at UCSD, or while I was still in the UK, but it just didn't fit in, it seemed far less important than passing my degree, or avoiding Westminster Bridge. So for now I'm an invasive pain in the ass.

I don't have a bank account, because there's no point until I get a job. Nor do I have a US credit rating because I've lived in the UK almost all my life and having a credit card with a high limit there for three years without getting in debt doesn't count for anything over here.

I'm afraid to touch anything in case I break it or move it to the wrong place. As of today I'm not too keen on talking either. Perhaps it's the problem of living with someone more exacting and sensitive than me, up until now, I've always been the picky one, now I'm the nuisance. Until I can be sure I'm not going to be taken the wrong way I might as well stick to my room and pretend I don't exist.

That pretty much sums it up: I do not exist as a person. I'm a collection of noises and inconveniences. Right now this irritation has some flat hunting to do.

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