HALLELUJIA!

World, Behold. Aubrey is in a great mood.

And it’s Monday. If this isn’t the antithesis of PMS, I don’t know what is.

First, I had a spectactular weekend. Got to spend time with my wonderful friend from out of town, drank wine, took Chaser and avoided a hangover, hung out with some fabulous people at a far-too-crowded bar and took some hilarious photos to boot, ate a scrumptiously sinful Fried Calamari Pizza (don’t knock it ’til you try it), laid by the pool, cleaned my house, found my missing software, cooked a gourmet dinner (and by this, I’m talking 4-course, multi-ingredient, from-scratch type of meal), vaccuumed up beetles that rival the cat hairballs in size and disgustingness that I also cleaned up, went to the grocery store for the first time since May, and – delight of all delights – got myself a roommate.

Praise the Lord.

Gone are the eating-only-what-I-find-at-work days — again I will rise back up into the land of quasi-destitution instead of full-fledged poverty. I may even splurge and by Charmin I’m so excited. Yes, though I’ve loved living alone for the past year and love the fact that I can (and do) walk around the house bookie-ass nekked on many an occasion, I’ll happily sacrifice my exhibitionism in return for some much-needed salary augmentation.

So my roommate. I promised I wouldn’t write anything about this person without prior consent, though I do believe it’s safe to say the following:
1. It’s — he’s — a boy.
2. He has ties to Cleveland, making him all-the-more rock-star in my eyes.
3. He doesn’t hate the cats.
4. He claims that he can cook.
5. He’s moving in – get this – on Saturday. When I’m gone. For 10 days.

Leaving me, an ebulliantly excited and justifiably exhausted Aubrey, in a slight state of panic. In preparation for said wonderfulroommate, I have the following to accomplish.

1. Move everything out of the downstairs bedroom and scour it. (Check)
2. Go through Rubbermaid storage units and be very generous over what needs to stay vs. what’s gonna go. (Check)
3. Clean up the spilled paint on the garage floor. (Check.)
4. Clean up aforementioned spilled paint that somehow made its way underneath every crevice of my fingernails. (Check)
5. Clean car (though not necessary for new roommate to move in, was necessary for my sanity.) (Check)
6. Water flowers. (Landscaping must look pretty for new roommate.) (Check)
7. Cut extra carpeting to make washer/dryer area more inhabitable (Check)
8. Clean out water heater closet and somehow manage to condense Rubbermaid storage units into them (Check)
9. Move mattress, box springs, headboard & footboard from 3rd floor bedroom into first floor bedroom. (Check)
10. Move books from 3rd floor bedroom to first floor bedroom and arrange strategically on headboard (Check)
11. Empty dresser and pack up all winter attire into suitcases for storage. (Check)
12. Empty closet and pack up all winter attire into suitcases for storage. (Check)
13. Channel Hulk-like-strength to take aforementioned heavy-as-all-shit suitcases and drag them into my attic without falling, tripping, or tumbling down the rickety ladder. (Check)
14. Figure out where to put dresser.
15. Figure out where to put my inordinate supply of formal attire.
16. Clean out bathroom.
17. Get new roommate to help me move the dresser wherever it’s supposed to go.
18. Move upstairs computer.
19. Get a whole lot less sleep than I need.
20. Head out of town for 10 days.

I could continue to list my ever-increasing items of my to-do list, but even in the face of this daunting assignment, and unheard of amounts of work still to finish this week, I’m smiling. I’ve been told I’m giddy, perky and chipper thus far today, and it’s only 10:41. I’m looking forward to having a roommate, looking forward to my status of quasi-destitution, looking forward to being able to go out and buy long-overdue wedding presents and be more generous without that stabbing feeling in the heart every time I call 1-800-Wachovia and they tell me I have 84 cents in my account. (The current balance.)

Still, while I no longer have to think of creative ways to finance my current, expected lifestyle, a few things will remain. The faux bachelorette party? Still on. The free cover into various bars? Oh yeah. Bring it. The freelancing? Yep, still plan on that as well. And despite a comment or two about the practicality of my beloved SAAB-ala Mobile, it’s here to stay.

I’m living the good life, people, but in the meantime, I’m off to SuperCuts. Can’t beat a $13 haircut.