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Day 1076: The road outside my house...
Jun. 2nd, 2013 03:10 pm...is paved with good intentions. Hire a construction crew, 'cause it's hell on the engine.
That is, hands down, my favorite line from Fall Out Boy's Hum Hallelujah. Clever. Witty. Although in college, I learned from Ernest Hemingway that the road to hell is paved with unbought stuffed dogs. This week was long and tiring, partially because Idaho has resumed its attempts to resurrect winter and my husband has returned to his blanket-stealing ways, and partially because work has been...long. And stressful. It was the end of the month, so naturally the state of Texas was insane, and also one of my coworkers took a day off with relatively short notice (when it comes to bailing on me and the Texas crew, she is very much with the short notice), so I was left trying to juggle research, closing, and reviewing. Also, we had our trial discovery deadlines come due, so I was running around trying to get those taken care of before the boss left the office.
Also, Cody and I have been being quietly overwhelmed by all our well-meaning relatives who are trying to assist on our house-hunt ever since we backed down on the other house after the home inspection revealed that, no, the place is not a former meth lab, but it only has one legal bedroom, which will cause some serious resale issues when we need to sell in five years. So we're back to the drawing board. My email inboxes have been flooded with more links to potential homes than we can possibly look at in a night, and everyone has an opinion, second opnion, and third opinion on the types of houses we like and what kind of work our estate agent is doing for us and our general life choices.
This week Carl graduated from high school, and we missed both his ceremony and his party. I felt kinda bad, because he's a sweet kid, but he also lives two hours away, and four-hour round trips are not something we look forward to in the middle of the week. We have started rehearsing for the Independence Day parade, which means factoring in the size of the float we'll be dancing on as well as counting in the other girls who wil also be dancing and waiting on the float between dances. We have decided, I think wisely, that swords on a moving float are a bad idea, so we will save that for when we are dancing on the riverbank.
I have made good progress on crocheting, but not so much on the writing. This weekend I went to visit my friends in Salt Lake City. It was awesome. We stayed up late nerding out about Supernatural and role-playing games, and we spent the day wandering around the city library and the Pride Festival talking about our crazy future hopes and dreams, eating tasty Greek and Thai food, and getting sunburnt. I bought a couple of cute wrap skirts and got a lead on some pro bono legal work when I'm down in Utah so I can get some training in things like estate planning. Kym and I danced, and even Curry danced for a little bit, too, though the majority of his dancing was photo-bombing more than anything. The pride festival had two henna booths, a fortune telling booth, and more animal rescue booths than I could comprehend. I do not know if it's the LGBT subculture that loves animals or of Salt Lake City is way more into animals than I realized. The kid who plays Unique on Glee was one of the performers, and she had a super epic voice even live. We watched an interesting band that consisted of a singer, a cellist, and a drummer. The singer's voice grew on me eventually, but the lyrics were a little too navel-gazing for my taste. All the sounds had the same verse-chorus-verse-chorus-outro structure, but the cellist was amazing. He basically handled the duties of the bassist, the lead guitarist, and rhythm guitarist by himself. I am a little in love with the cello in general.
I made it home super late, and Cody and I are exhausted. I got to hold a baby today, and this time he didn't cry in indignation over the fact that I wasn't his mother. I consider this progress. I have a motherload of mortgage paperwork to take care of, so here goes.
This week, I totally Thunderstruck a coworker's desk. He threw a ball at me. He had it coming.
That is, hands down, my favorite line from Fall Out Boy's Hum Hallelujah. Clever. Witty. Although in college, I learned from Ernest Hemingway that the road to hell is paved with unbought stuffed dogs. This week was long and tiring, partially because Idaho has resumed its attempts to resurrect winter and my husband has returned to his blanket-stealing ways, and partially because work has been...long. And stressful. It was the end of the month, so naturally the state of Texas was insane, and also one of my coworkers took a day off with relatively short notice (when it comes to bailing on me and the Texas crew, she is very much with the short notice), so I was left trying to juggle research, closing, and reviewing. Also, we had our trial discovery deadlines come due, so I was running around trying to get those taken care of before the boss left the office.
Also, Cody and I have been being quietly overwhelmed by all our well-meaning relatives who are trying to assist on our house-hunt ever since we backed down on the other house after the home inspection revealed that, no, the place is not a former meth lab, but it only has one legal bedroom, which will cause some serious resale issues when we need to sell in five years. So we're back to the drawing board. My email inboxes have been flooded with more links to potential homes than we can possibly look at in a night, and everyone has an opinion, second opnion, and third opinion on the types of houses we like and what kind of work our estate agent is doing for us and our general life choices.
This week Carl graduated from high school, and we missed both his ceremony and his party. I felt kinda bad, because he's a sweet kid, but he also lives two hours away, and four-hour round trips are not something we look forward to in the middle of the week. We have started rehearsing for the Independence Day parade, which means factoring in the size of the float we'll be dancing on as well as counting in the other girls who wil also be dancing and waiting on the float between dances. We have decided, I think wisely, that swords on a moving float are a bad idea, so we will save that for when we are dancing on the riverbank.
I have made good progress on crocheting, but not so much on the writing. This weekend I went to visit my friends in Salt Lake City. It was awesome. We stayed up late nerding out about Supernatural and role-playing games, and we spent the day wandering around the city library and the Pride Festival talking about our crazy future hopes and dreams, eating tasty Greek and Thai food, and getting sunburnt. I bought a couple of cute wrap skirts and got a lead on some pro bono legal work when I'm down in Utah so I can get some training in things like estate planning. Kym and I danced, and even Curry danced for a little bit, too, though the majority of his dancing was photo-bombing more than anything. The pride festival had two henna booths, a fortune telling booth, and more animal rescue booths than I could comprehend. I do not know if it's the LGBT subculture that loves animals or of Salt Lake City is way more into animals than I realized. The kid who plays Unique on Glee was one of the performers, and she had a super epic voice even live. We watched an interesting band that consisted of a singer, a cellist, and a drummer. The singer's voice grew on me eventually, but the lyrics were a little too navel-gazing for my taste. All the sounds had the same verse-chorus-verse-chorus-outro structure, but the cellist was amazing. He basically handled the duties of the bassist, the lead guitarist, and rhythm guitarist by himself. I am a little in love with the cello in general.
I made it home super late, and Cody and I are exhausted. I got to hold a baby today, and this time he didn't cry in indignation over the fact that I wasn't his mother. I consider this progress. I have a motherload of mortgage paperwork to take care of, so here goes.
This week, I totally Thunderstruck a coworker's desk. He threw a ball at me. He had it coming.
