Saturday, August 15, 2015

Totally Tired

Oh my gosh, you guys. I am monumentally tired. Epically tired. Historically tired.

Totally tired.

RIP, Merritt Butrick.

But yeah, I'm freaking tired.

I feel as if I spent the entire day in the car. To the storage unit. Load the car. To the apartment. Unload the car. Drive Precocious Daughter to her social engagements. Drive to the house to check on the dog.

Did I mention that my house went under contract last weekend, but the buyers backed out because people who believe a 40-year-old house should produce a completely clean inspection report shouldn't be allowed to breed, let alone purchase real estate, so now my house is back on the market and I have to find ways to not be there while it's being shown, which is a total pain in the ass?

Guys, I'm just tired. I want to sell my damn house. I want to finalize my damn divorce. I want to pay off my damn debts.

None of this is going to happen tonight, so maybe I should just concentrate on getting a good night's sleep.

Good night, Drunkards.

Don't let the bedbugs bite.

Or it might end up on the next home inspection report, for fuck's sake.


  1. I still love you, magic cab driving writer lady <3

  2. In this market the assholes who backed out are going to regret it. I know that's a small comfort. I hope you get the bigger comfort of some sleep. It must be very strange, though, and possibly a cause of discomfort, to sleep in a place that's been yours for so long but that you'll soon vacate.

  3. Sleep, Chucky, sleep
    And like a caterpillar creep
    Through a night of snoring noise
    As of dreams of Drummer boys
    Sleep Chucky sleep.


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