I Am The Huntress
I'm meeting with the home inspector Saturday morning to go over the place, and I'm writing a check list of everything I want him to make sure to look for, in case he doesn't do it on his own. After what happened to my brother after he bought his condo a few years ago I'm not feeling too trustworthy of anybody at this moment. Meanwhile today has been a mad scramble trying to track down all the little things on my loan officer's check list, including this year's W-2's, which as of 9:00 am this morning I had clutched in the tenacious grip of my left hand and then by 9:01 am had promptly lost it, and was late for work tearing up the already torn-up apartment looking for it, and still have not found it. And... {{erk}} oh balls. I just realized while typing this that I left my pay stubs in my locker at work, so I'll probably have to swing by there again tonight on my way home from my parents' house, which is where I am now trying to get copies of the last few years' W-2 and other sundries. Eek... and my bank is closed now so no statement copies until tomorrow.
Nuts. So much I was hoping to get done today, and so little actually accomplished. And I'm as exhausted as if I have just given birth to, uh, something. Feh. That's it, I'm done for today. I shall soon head home and repair to my fainting couch for the evening, the back of my hand pressed daintily to my forehead. I'm putting the away message on the IM, and you'd best believe I'm takin' that damn phone off the hook, that's fer sher.
Was I this stressed out the last time I moved? That was, what, nine years ago? When all three of us basically had a month to vacate, and I moved my whole existence into this current residence sight unseen?
I wish somebody would walk up and down my back. That's what it really feels like it needs right now. I'm pretty certain that this is not exactly the safest panacea for my problems but dag nabbit I'm feelin' mighty grumpy and seriously achey-poo-poo.
I promise a far moreinteresting optimistic post once I've recuperated.
Nuts. So much I was hoping to get done today, and so little actually accomplished. And I'm as exhausted as if I have just given birth to, uh, something. Feh. That's it, I'm done for today. I shall soon head home and repair to my fainting couch for the evening, the back of my hand pressed daintily to my forehead. I'm putting the away message on the IM, and you'd best believe I'm takin' that damn phone off the hook, that's fer sher.
Was I this stressed out the last time I moved? That was, what, nine years ago? When all three of us basically had a month to vacate, and I moved my whole existence into this current residence sight unseen?
I wish somebody would walk up and down my back. That's what it really feels like it needs right now. I'm pretty certain that this is not exactly the safest panacea for my problems but dag nabbit I'm feelin' mighty grumpy and seriously achey-poo-poo.
I promise a far more
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