The One Where I Have No Life

[jessicagallagher]

Originally published at constant-casualty.net. You can comment here or there.

Wow… I have a blog?  I had no idea.  Really.

Wordpress has been kindly reminding me that I need to update to version 2.7.1 but I just don’t have the energy or motivation to do so.  But every time I sign in to do something, I see that little note up there and it makes me feel unorganized and antsy because I keep meaning to come back and do it at another time.  And then I forget.  I suppose I should be thankful that my biggest problem right now is to update my Wordpress files.

What to say, what to say… Simon and I have found a house.  Tomorrow the realtor is coming to meet us here at our place to go over putting in an offer for it.  I’m so undeniably excited about actually getting this house, and yet I am so terrified about going through the steps of getting it.  Tonight on the way home from work I asked Simon if he knew “how this mortage-y thing worked” (so intelligent, I know) and he laughed and said he had a pretty good idea.  I know the guy isn’t going to screw us over.  He’s a friend of a friend of Simon’s, so.  But still.  It’s the legality of it all.  I’m so worried about the closing with all the paper signing and percentage rates and lawyer-talk.  Lock me in a room for a while when they need to figure it all out and then call me out when I can move my shit.

I have pictures.  Lots of them, actually.  But I refuse to post them until after we actually get the keys, because I’m afraid I’ll jinx it.  We haven’t exactly been having the best of luck with the whole “house” thing lately.  So I’m not taking any chances.

Other than that?  I got nothing.  Tomorrow I’m going to get a physical for the first time in well over ten years and I’m actually nervous about it.  Like, little-kid-”don’t poke me with the needle” nervous.  My main purpose of going to get a physical is the fact that it’s the only sure fire way of being able to see my doctor - the one I trust and like - and I have some concerns that I really want to sit down and go over with her.  Hopefully this will not result in blood work, because the thought of it already makes me break out into a sweat.  But. I am a big girl, contrary to popular belief… and if I can buy a house, by God I can take a prick to the finger.

Maybe.  You think they’ll give me a lollipop and a sticker afterwards?