I’m still here. Things are crazy at work with the move to the new building. My commute is going to get longer and more traffic-laden starting next week, which sucks.

Our realtor should be getting back with us soon, she was on vacation last week. Turns out our lease is up at the end of July rather than the end of August, so we might have to pay extra for the last month unless we find something and close on it rather quickly. It’s possible, but I’m not betting on it. There just isn’t a huge selection of decent places in our price range, unfortunately. But we’ll keep at it. So everything is kind of in limbo at this point. It’s a bit unsettling, but it can’t last forever. Just gotta get through these next couple of months and things should be somewhat settled. Patience. Patience.


Excuses, excuses

I think this might qualify as a good reason to not eat your vegetables. Can you imagine? Yuck. I’m not completely terrified of snakes, per se. In fact, I think I’d much rather run across one alive in an outdoor environment than dead and staring at me from my dinner plate. Erg.

If you read through to the end of the article, it says that the company is going to send the discoverer a container of some sort so he can send the snake head back to them for investigation purposes. What would you do with it in the meantime? I can think of no satisfactory household container or location in which to store the item while waiting for the company’s container to arrive. I wouldn’t want it just hanging out in ambient temperatures, decomposing. But could you bring yourself to put it in the refrigerator? What a dilemma!


Summer is definitely here. It is so muggy! It seems ridiculous to use the air conditioning in my car driving to work before 9 AM, yet I did. The drive to work should not make taking a shower before doing so completely pointless.

The graduation/hooding ceremony yesterday went well. We officially have a doctor in the family now. We gave the provided gift, accompanied by a card. Whatever.

They leave tomorrow for the big move. So Mike’s car’s not sitting at an apartment complex where family no longer will live, I’m taking him up there in the morning. Before the butt crack of dawn. They want him there at five. Ungodly. We’ll have to leave the house just after four. Inhumane. I’ll probably be back home and back in bed before the sun rises. It will all be like a dream. In all reality, it will be really weird to be without a husband at home for almost a week. I’ll miss him.

When he gets back we’ll get back into house hunting, full speed ahead.

I won’t expect a thank-you note.

Surprisingly, I’m not even annoyed by this stuff anymore.

My sister-in-law graduates from med school next Thursday. They’re relocating for her residency. My dear husband is kind enough to be helping them move out of state. His brother doesn’t want to drive the moving truck, so Mike’s doing it. He’ll be gone about a week. We thought that was plenty present enough for the occasion, but apparently not.

He sent Mike home with a gift last night. Not for us. For her. “From us.” Purchased by him. So we don’t “look like a chump.” Because “everyone else will be giving her gifts.” How freaking presumptuous is that?

This is the kind of thing that used to send me into a rage. I must finally be used to the in-law antics. I didn’t even open the bag to see what it is yet. I wonder if he sent wrapping paper and a card, too. Unbelievable. Yet, I should have expected as much.