Yeah, my ‘puter is still down. I’m at the library posting this, how sad is that?! Depressing, really. I think I’ve been in more of a funk over the loss of my always-on entertainment machine than I am about not having a house yet!
And speaking of houses… it’s too bad I can only use the internet at the library once a day. We made an offer on a house on Thursday night and will hear by this afternoon that some other jerk is going to get it, but I won’t be able to tell you about the miracle of US actually getting the damn thing until the next time I can mooch off of visit Shana the Beautiful. That is, provided we actually have a miracle.
No other pressing news, except that they really shouldn’t allow smokers into the library because they really reek up the place and make me itch like I’m covered in red ants.
Oh yeah, and I definitely got the last question wrong on my first math test this morning. Which really makes me mad because I actually did it right (one of the times!) but I didn’t write down everything I needed to solve the problem. Apparently thinking really hard and concentrating on one problem for 45 minutes is not long enough to make you remember the right information you need to solve the problem correctly. I’m pretty sure I got the rest of them right, though. Of course, I was also pretty sure each of my kids was a girl until I had the ultrasounds, and I was also POSITIVE that each of the last 4 houses was “the right one” for us. And I swear, if one more person tells me “Don’t worry, it just wasn’t the right one for you.” or “You guys will find something, that just wasn’t where you were supposed to be.” one more time…. there will be a death in the family, and it won’t be mine. Family, that is.
(I freaking look like I’m molesting myself this guy and his leftover ciggy smoke is making me itch so bad! To make it even worse, it’s menthol. Seriously? Who thought that menthol was a good idea??)
Well that’s fantastic. I only get 60 minutes a day on this computer (stupid library and their stupid rules!) and S has decided to get himself injured at the playground at school. And no, he can’t wait 90 minutes so I can pick up D from kindergarten at the same time and not have to drive all over Egypt and back playing Mom’s Limo Service. Now I’m screwed out of my remaining 19 minutes. Why can’t these kids be more considerate and only get injured at lunch time???
TTFN, Sally (that grrl who is wasting away from not being able to constantly check her e-mail, facebook page and catch up on her network TV shows that she can’t actually watch on her TV)