This was supposed to be a happy post. Last time I said I needed to do one of those. Oh well. It’s my blog and I’m feeling anything but cheerful. I’m not unhappy – just overwhelmed and frustrated.
I feel like running outside and screaming into a vast space where no one can hear me and think, “Good heavens, is someone being murdered? Is there a cat being run over?”
Only I can’t do that. So I blog. Now that you’ve all clicked off the page in search of happier, more exciting posts, I will pour out my thoughts on here:
This house needs to sell.
Why in the world do we have 4 cats?
I don’t want to live in an apartment, which is great, because with 4 cats the chances of that are pretty slim.
So are the chances of renting someone’s home. Imagine trying to explain how many cats you have, “but it’ll be great!” No.
We talk many times a day about just both quitting our jobs, going on welfare, letting everyone else pay for all our stuff, having tons of babies for free, and laughing about it. Must be nice. (Never. Never would we do that.)
I don’t want to pack. Or unpack.
I have head explosions. Multiple times a day. Especially when I clean the entire house for a showing and they’re not interested.
I can’t believe I made a really great friend right before moving after 3 years of no friends here.
Our credit is going to be ruined and there is nothing I can do about it.
Alan Greenspan is on my hit list for what he did to the economy.
Also on my hit list? Our realtor. Hello? It’s been 2 months since we’ve heard from you. Yes, we’re short selling but it doesn’t mean we aren’t people in need of help selling a home.
My husband is currently looking for his sandals that he constantly misplaces and blames it on me. And guess who is being asked repeatedly where the sandals are right now? I don’t know. Don’t take them off in odd places.
I’m going to look for them…
They are in the closet. I didn’t put them there, yet I am being blamed for placing them in the closet where he was unable to locate them. Because apparently, our closet is also some form of a black hole that consumes sandals.
::writes on hit list::
Crossing my fingers tomorrow is a much better day. In fact, someone took a flyer of our home today so maybe, just maybe, we’ll have a house showing.
::runs off to hide second pair of sandals for a little pick-me-up::