I need help reacting to something.

I just *accidentally locked Mr. Swirley in EK’s room (with EK). You gotta break a few eggs…

We are currently residing in four square feet of living space. You think I am kidding. I am not. NOT at all. To add twelve pounds of salt to the wound, our closing date was delayed from today to October 31st to November never .Well, not never, but the mortgage company threatened to pull the loan because they assumed that a credit for sealing the basement meant that we were buying sieve. Obviously. I got this news while waiting at the DMV for a duplicate ID, which, by the way doesn’t require a new pictures so I flat-ironed my hair for nothing. Honestly, that was the most irritating part of the day. That sh!t singes the crap out of what’s left of my brown hair.

This morning Ellis woke up at 5AM and did his best impression of a chicken with his head cut off. It was awesome except for the the fact that it wasn’t. Then I pushed a chair, a box and filing cabinet up against the door (taking up three out of our four square feet) and hunkered down for a terrible scream storm. Three hours later we woke up with 15 minutes to spare before a 9 AM meeting at our soon to be new house. We made it, bitches. Ellis might have been wearing raspberry-stained pajamas sans shoes, but we made it to our on time and for that I am very proud. However, I am not proud of our unbrushed teeth, greasy hair (again, both of us), the insane look in my eyes as a I barreled down I-90, and chaos created by EK’s incessant questioning while the perma-seal guy earnestly tried to explain the process of doing something or other to the basement.

I wish I could do a voice over for a cartoon. I am not saying I have a good voice for such a venture, but it would be fun to wear those headphones in a sound booth.

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Wise words? Bring it.