My apartment is fairly awesome. I like to call it the single best E-2 (a Korean visa status) apartment in Seoul. I have a sweet couch, a queen bed, a microwave, a toaster, all of the cookware and bedding anybody would need, a monster air conditioner, lots of shelf space, and several closets. I have a crappy TV, but a solid cable package with over 30 English channels, including my beloved CNN International. Lots of my E2 cohorts have dorm-sized refrigerators, I have a real one. Up until recently, that fridge and my cabinets were always full, often with Costco products, the epitome of high-end in Korea.
Time is running short for this abode. In theory, I’m supposed to be out of here on Friday. In theory, my former job is also supposed to pay me before Friday. As A depends on B, it looks like I may have a little longer here. Lets just say I haven’t packed my bags yet.
The apartment has, of course, begun its long and sad decline. The road to crack house begins with a lack of food. I ate pretty much the last things that qualify as “food” today. Sure, there’s some oranges, half a pack of spaghetti that I bought a year ago, a can or tuna, some hard candy, 2 partial bags of stale Korean chips that I didn’t like, and of course condiments. However, I think it’s fair to say that major dinner operations have ceased.