So, Friday was one of those days that was so bad in the office that all we could do was laugh. So we did. We laughed a lot. That's what I loved about working here.
Then I had a wonderful weekend. I got to see a dear, dear friend whom I hadn't seen in quite some time. I went to a good movie with some great friends (almost got kicked out of the theater). I got to play with my dog. I got to see kitties just opening their eyes. I got to go to my home church and tithe. I got to see some more dear friends I haven't seen in a long time. I got to eat Chinese with friends and my Momma. It was good.
Then I came back.
Monday and Tuesday were progressively worse than Friday, with Monday ending in my landlord informing me I had to be out of my house by the end of the week (not because of anything I did, because his daughter moved home and needed the house). The house I plan to move into will not be ready for about a month. So then Tuesday was ridiculous, with the coworkers and me becoming almost slaphappy as we feverishly tried to get everything done. We worked our butts off, then went home thinking, "hey, we worked hard. maybe things will be better."
Nope.
Wednesday. Everything was fine, until about 3 p.m. Suffice to say: drama.
Now, I have to move today. I'm moving from my pink trailer on the rez to an underground house. The common question I receive is, "What, are you a hobbit?"
Silver lining: Mom and Dad are coming today to help me move.
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