Maybe I can nail this adulting thing by the time I'm 50.

I'll be 54 in 3 weeks. Good luck on that.

Well, a gal can dream.

Maybe I can nail this adulting thing by the time I'm 50.

Don't Do It. Adulting is highly overrated.

So I have a 1-day streak of flossing going.

Yes! Keep the streak alive!

(I will not post floss updates every day, I promise.)

I support daily updates if you want to! I had just barely gotten into the habit of flossing daily when I got the invisalign, which means I should be flossing after every meal, but really I skip lunch. We'll see how that goes at my next cleaning, I guess.

Hi, guys!

Sorry yesterday was sucktastic for so many people. It was evil with a dash of good for me, too. I had a psych appt. at 2:30 and a F2F interview for a corporate gig at 4, with a house showing from 9:30 to 10:30, which means, since we are one (working) car family still, I go into the garage with the old armchair and the space heater and sit unto like a crazy hermit serial killer person amidst the cobwebs and bags of yard crap we need to have hauled away, so that the people looking at the house need not acknowledge that someone actually lives and works in the fucking house.

We have had about 70 showings in a month. It is driving me fucking crazy.

SO all I asked D was please, no showings between 10:30 and 2 yesterday, because the insomnia fairy bit me on the ass and I was up till 5 am, and then the 9:30 showing and THEN I had to get ready for the interview (which included dyeing my hair, since, yo, I was stripey unto a skunk.) So, time.

I'm dripping naked out of the shower when I look at my phone and someone is coming over in 8 MINUTES. And I flip the fuck out, man. I am not a yeller, and I called D at work and was bellowing "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS I AM NAKED AND WET AND I HAD NO WARNING AND I ASKED FOR 4 FUCKING HOURS AND I AM NOT LETTING THEM IN THE HOUSE THEY CAN GO FUCK THEMSELVES YOU FIX THIS NOW"

Not my finest moment, but considering this is about the 2nd time I've ever yelled in a 6 year relationship, and my god, was I pissed about it, I own it.

So I am super stressed and grr argh and just walking around in my underwear doing my thing, thinking fuck you, if a realtor walks in with a client they are just going to walk in on a mostly naked redhead and it's not going to be awkward for ME. And D messages and tells me he pushed back the time a half hour.

Um. No. I'm like, flat-out, I'm not leaving, I'm getting ready and I'm not letting them in the house. Fix it.

SO I go to the appt , angry, stressed, and knowing I have to talk about Issues and Grief and whatnot without crying since Interview.

Which, I managed, and I'm 99.9% sure I have the job -- the HR guy basically said I did without SAYING it, you know? -- and my friend Kenton sent us a Death Casserole, and it was a fucking super fancy lobster risotto which was so rich and buttery with huge chunks of lobster and it almost made me cry with pleasure, and Dan and I made up and that was OK.

But still.

Hugs or cupcakes or booze or a combo of such all around.

That's a hell of a day, Strix. Good on ya for sticking to your guns, though. Realtor needs to sell the house but shoot, he also needs to realize the people living there still live there. I'm glad you probably (fingers crossed, knock wood) got the job, and I hope you are relaxing with wine and cupcakes.

Steph, cheers for flossing!

dammit, I can't make pom-poms anymore

Dang, Strix, that sounds super-mega-stressful! But god does that risotto sound AMAZING. And the job front sounds great, too!

Zen *\\o/*

Just checking

4 backslashes

Oh, that risotto was GOD. Crimini mushrooms and loads of real butter and asiago and truffles and ginormous CLAWS of lobster and crunchy panko bread crumbs on the top.

It was so rich I had to stop in the middle of a modest serving. Dan and I BOTH had a cigarette afterwards, like after a scene in an old 40's movie, and my serotonin and endorphin levels were like, cocaine high-high. SO. GOOD. So needed after such a shit day, and what a thoughtful gift. Bless you, Kenton.