So my fellow cohort in crime at the office had shoulder surgery and is out for the next 30 days. As my boss told me today, I'm carrying the entire office on my shoulders and I could put us out of business. Oh no pressure or anything. Never mind the fact that I'm in the middle of an ugly divorce and trying to sell my house. Hence the lack of posting. It's a lack of time.
Speaking of said divorce, Skippy got a visit from his lawyer late this afternoon with my revised demand letter. I'm surprised they didn't see that explosion from the International Space Station. Skippy's lawyer is supposed to call mine tomorrow morning and let her know all the colorful language Skippy used when he said I can go hamster myself.
Oh, I bought a Sterns and Foster bed this weekend. No, I couldn't afford it. No, I still can't pay the mortgage. However, I couldn't sleep on that mortuary slab I had as a bed any longer because it was killing my joints. I was only getting about 4 hours of sleep per night because I couldn't get comfortable. I guess I really am "financially irresponsible."
Other than working my hamster off and painting every bedroom in the house a neutral color so that someone will buy the place, nothing much going on here. And the news is just too damn depressing to even comment on. Why yes, I am on my 3rd Corona...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
If I knew you liked to paint so much, I would have flown you out here for a week and paid you in beer to paint our place. Hell. I might still, if you're interested.
Is the Skipper having a bad day???
Awwww, Poopsie!
Dude, shoulda bought a Sleep Number bed. Them's the bomb.
And you know, I did see something on this morning's news about an explosion rocking the Bible Belt... *lightbulb* HEY! So since he's dead now, what with his head exploding and all, I guess that finalizes the divorce!
Hang in there kiddo, it does get better eventually, sometime, not real soon but definately before your 401(k) matures. Nevermind, with that mattress you just bought don't got no 401(k)....
My NY flower child ex took off in a school bus with a band of hippies and divorced my ass from a commune in Montana or Idaho or someplace out west past Butthole, WI, where hippies are usually shot.
Took me 11 years to find a good woman after that but it was well worth the weight. Yes weight. She's a great little eye-talian gal who can really cook *urp* fattened my ass up so no woman but her will want me now but whatthehellwe'rehappyasclams.
Divorce ain't the end of the world. It just smells that way.
Sig, not to laugh at your misery or anything but that was the funniest damn story I've read in awhile.
Post a Comment