It was the best of times, and it was the worst of times.
Ah, who am I kidding. There’s not enough lipstick in the world for the pig that has been this week. I will try to find the humor in what has been my own private hell, a March Madness that would drive one literally insane. I will then have a vodka-Fresca and indulge in a trashy zombie paperback while dreaming of the world’s largest bowl of macaroni and cheese.
Someday, my old friend. Someday.
We’ll skip the work stress; everyone has work stress, and mine is probably no more exciting than anyone else’s. I will say that if I ruled the world, no meetings would be held prior to 10am. Let’s move onto the roller coaster of real estate. As many know, I put in a bid on a condo in the Avenues that I really, really liked.
So did a shit ton of other people.
So I’m in second position, meaning that if that special someone who had their bid accepted gets hit by a bus, loses their job, or gets deported, I’m in the first slot to pull the rug out from under them. In the meantime, Kathy and I have been poring over listings, and pulling some of the diamonds out of some surrrriously rough places.
Those diamonds, however, are also on the radar of every other poor person in search of a place of their own, and within hours are snatched off of the MLS and into the pockets of people who clearly don’t work 40+ hours a week during the work week. So we trudge along, Kathy ever the optimist (I’m telling you, I heart this woman), driving from gayborhood to barrio, looking for a place that won’t bankrupt me.
Of course we’d pick the road associated with locusts. The gay plague references abound.
You can’t see it from where you’re sitting, but I am blogging right now on the “craptop”, the computer I bought when I first moved out here to UT during the Reagan administration. It’s slow, the bottom of it gets to the temperature of molten lava, and we frankly don’t have a good working history. This is because my good laptop absorbed water off of the kitchen counter and is now the world’s most expensive paperweight.
Which is not covered under AppleCare. Just so you know.
The cream on the top of that stroke of luck is that I have a month’s worth of committee minutes trapped on the hard drive. Which I will need to recreate. There’s also a friend’s thesis, a bunch of recipes, and pictures of my nieces and nephews over the past three years. Oh, and a bunch of music and movies.
Basically, my entire life has been destroyed by three drops of dihydrous oxide.
So I can either fork over $800 to fix it, which 1) I don’t have and 2) would buy me a new computer, or I can live with what I have, a beat-to-shit six-year-old laptop that takes 5 hours to charge for 45 minutes of battery life.
Thank goodness it comes in fuschia.
Tack onto that suck salad of a week the fact that my grandfather the cat has taken yet another turn for the worse (though, him being the trickster he is, I’m not ready to throw in the towel yet), the never-ending saga of the sleep Nazis, the need to have my car inspected and registered again, and the fact that not only is Community a rerun, but GLEE isn’t even ON tonight, and you get one sad panda.
That makes me a sadddd Panda.
On a lighter note, a conversation with a work buddy on the way home gave me some leads on potentially cheaper fixes to my computer, and some much needed pep talk points (thanks Kandyland) to make me feel slightly less terrible. Couple that with the insanely beautiful weather, and the impending weekend along with drinks with JDane, I have determined that I will make March of 2013 “that month” this year, meaning March can suck it. Bring it on April.
Insert Witty Comment 