I'm tired as fuck. I probably walked for about 2.5 hours today. All to look at a bunch of unsatisfying apartments:

1. I went back to this place I looked at the other day to meet the other roommate. It's in a great locale (near where I am now)... the room itself is nice... but... the guys who live there are kind of just slobs in a grim way. A vaguely depressing air to the place. Shitty couches, mold on the ceilings. Both of them were hungover, maybe that had something to do with it.

2. Then I walked down to an area called Bernal Heights. There are "artistic," quirky parts and there are shitty parts. "A lot of people say we're on the wrong side of the hill, but we're not," said the leaseholder, the sweat on his face and the fine glassy sheen of his eyes indicating his appreciation for heroin. A guy wandered by wearing only a towel. I met the guy who inhabited the garage with his broken motorcycle, watching kung-fu DVDs on a filthy television. I stared out the window of the tiny room at the view of the security door.

3. A little later I took two buses and walked up a big-ass hill to get to the Presidio. The Presidio is this mammoth tract of forested federal land. It's where the Blair Witch would live, if there weren't so many Garou. The house was in pretty sad shape with a tripwire-like cable pulled across the stairway. The leaseholder was a friendly but slightly off-kilter fellow. You know that weird aura some guys who were in the military have? Friendly, but... weird? This guy had it. Somehow I would've known even if I didn't see the Navy hat.

I am beat.

Bonus link of the day! I love the picture.