Rental management company finally submitted a corrected report - showing I did NOT have 15 late payments over the last 12 months.

Eight days to closing. I'm struggling with being patient and not being a worry wart that the whole thing is going to fall apart (not that there have been any signs of trouble). I wish I could just load up on Lorazapam but I'd end up sleeping my way through the next 8 days.

So far, my semi-coping mechanism has been shopping on Amazon and filling up my wish list. I've told myself I can't buy anything until after closing.

-t, as someone who bakes pizza about once a week (don't judge me so harshly, it's a whole wheat crust! and kids will eat it!), what is this bacon-wrapped pizza of which you speak? It sounds dangerously good.

Home-made pizza has to be healthier than fast-food delivery, right? (Because I make it for myself at least twice a week, with vegan 'mozzarella shreds'.)

That's my thought Theo, although wrapping it in bacon may undo some of that.

Today at work first the website was down, then the library catalog was down, and now our email is down. It's like someone is playing dominoes with the servers.

I picked it up at Little Caesar's. It looks like it would be pretty easy to recreate by lining the sides of a cake pan with bacon, covering that with crust, deep-dish style, and then filling with sauce and toppings and cheese. or once you get the crust pressed into the pan fold down the sides and slide some bacon in there, that might be easier.

I signed up for a bunch of online courses and almost all of them are starting this week. I already unenrolled from one because if I don't want to do a course that requires discussion as part of the grade. If I wanted to interact with people, I'd enroll in an actual university class.

The statistics class is aimed at people who fear statistics and it promises to relate everything to daily life, so I need to run through some modules before I'll decide to stick with it.

Dear co-worker, leaving everything to the last minute as standard operating procedure will eventually bite you on the ass when you need more than a minute to get everything done. Exhibit A: Today's profanity-filled mad scramble to get taxes turned in in the midst of a work deadline crunch when you've taken a couple of days off in the past week and could have devoted an hour or two out of either to finishing up your return.

Working at home. Someone convince me to change out of the clothes I wore yesterday and might have slept in.

I have no argument for that.

Oh, hey, I randomly have good eggs. What on earth am I going to do with those?