Alright, stop it, now...
In the space of less than an hour this morning, before I was fully locked and loaded, thus ready for it, I was given two pieces of information to deal with.
And, one bit of really good news.
I like seeing things in that order. Not so hot news... We don't have a lawyer again.
Seems the guy we were hooked up with isn't licensed to practice in both states. However, if the other deal goes through, we can do what we have to do from here with this guy. So, we'll see what happens there. Meantime, I need to make a call or two and see what, exactly, it is we're being scared to death of.
If it's what I think it is, we don't hafta be scared to death.
If not, we just hafta expedite finding a lawyer.
With help, that is.
(On that note... if yer of a mind, could ya send up a little prayer for Eric? He's a really good man and needs all the help he can get. Bless y'all...) Next, the weekend of the third, we'll be having house guests.
This, of course, constitutes an emergency in the "housecleaning department", but you can compound that halfway to hell and back because of whom the house guests are gonna be. Eric's brother and his partner. They live in a gorgeous, cat-pee-free, house in Florida and they're coming to stay for a few days soon. I've never met Rod. (To be "heard" said in much the same voice as John Lennon intoned, "I buried Paaaauuul." at the end of "Strawberry Field"...)
I've talked to him on the phone and I've seen pictures and I'm skeert. The guy was a chef and I hafta cook for him?
They have no cats, let alone 349 cats, and this house'll EVER be clean enough?
Fuck me runnin'.
I nearly had stroke baking cookies for my boss at the restaurant. How the hell am I gonna impress a chef for a week?
Maybe with my amazing cat pee-hole plugging up abilities? By maybe burning this place down and totally rebuilding in less than two weeks? Man.
There is sooooooooooo much needs to be done.
Cobwebs must go.
Carpets must be shampooed.
(X 40. Fuckin' cats...) Not to eeeeven mention that one thing they wanna do is go to Atlantic City. Um, yeah. That's a gooood idea.
For y'all. With arrears nearing 25 grand and knowing there's a warrant out and that the "bail" is full purge, no t'ank ya ver'much, we won't be going to Jersey just yet. Meantime... ROD'S COMING!!!!! OH GAWD, HE'P ME NOW!!!! Then, while all this was swirling around in my head, making my hands shake, my knees weak and leaving me kinda dizzy and a tad nauseaous, I was trying to get ready to go back to that potentially brain-melting Post Office for the next installment of "Paying the Insurance Bill at the Last Possible Second", brought to you by yours truly.
*kicks self in ass, nearly dislocating knee*
That not-able-to-count-worth-a-good-godamn chick was there, too.
BUT, by the grace of God, I got the guy.
Even he got fubared by the fifty dollar bill and hadda resort to the calculator, but he was immeasurably better than that stupid woman was last time. Anyway, getting ready to go there, with my head fulla that other stuff, I see that my usual black jeans are fulla cat hair and shit. (Not literal "shit", just mud, horse hair and other assorted muck.)
So, I go to my closet on autopilot to get sweats, but instead grab a pair of smaller jeans. I muttered, "I know, God, I'm pushin' it, but..." and pulled 'em up, buttoned and zipped 'em and didn't pass out.
Not only didn't I pass out, I can walk, bend, sit, tie my boots... everything, in these smaller jeans and... just wow.
Cool. Now. That'll be enough for the day, okay? Please?
I really don't think I can handle any more "news".
Unless it's that I can get into my 29"'s or something... maybe. Or that the BC has dropped dead or been abducted by aliens. Something along those lines, maybe I could also handle.
Just, whatever it is, break it to me gently, okay?
God?
Please? Thanks, Your Dude-ness.
Shure will appreciate it. Now, where's that ACME parasol Wyle E. Coyote sent me?
I need to go cower under it.
Whilst listening to the sound of incoming whistling.
Hoping it's good news scribbled on the boulder. Help.
*sad little (slightly desperate) giggle* Peace, ya'll...
Comments
1
Hang in there and don't worry too much about all of it as you'll do your best in any case and the worry will just make that harder for you. In any case, I'm betting you'll work it all out just fine!
CONGRATS on the jeans thing! Gotta love the small stuff! *grin*
CONGRATS on the jeans thing! Gotta love the small stuff! *grin*
Posted by: dee at May 25, 2005 02:00 PM (sZnML)
2
Hi Love,
You don't have to impress the high-class relatives, just offer them food, lodging and smiles. If they decide the accomodations are a little to 'sixteenth century London' for them, they can certainly flee to a local motel. I'm probably one of about 2% of the population who would sleep in 'Stevie's Manger' amongst the
mixed bag of animals and early american trailor
decor, so don't think evil of Eric's bro and wife if they can't quite work up enough enthusiasm to chance it. Most of our modern citizens think anything less than $100/night motels, equals a stint on 'Fear Factor.' Chefs enjoy some else doing the cooking for a change, and will eat most food (especially yours) without complaint. So, don't panic or try to impress; just enjoy their visit...
Love, Me.
ps
At your leisure, find out which places have Kareoke on various nights, preferably with an eight o'clock start, (nine at the latest, because we get a lot more singing time before we have to drive home with the beer sloshing about in our innards..)and send me report on the Pennsy nite-spots, Private!
Hi Love,
You don't have to impress the high-class relatives, just offer them food, lodging and smiles. If they decide the accomodations are a little to 'sixteenth century London' for them, they can certainly flee to a local motel. I'm probably one of about 2% of the population who would sleep in 'Stevie's Manger' amongst the
mixed bag of animals and early american trailor
decor, so don't think evil of Eric's bro and wife if they can't quite work up enough enthusiasm to chance it. Most of our modern citizens think anything less than $100/night motels, equals a stint on 'Fear Factor.' Chefs enjoy some else doing the cooking for a change, and will eat most food (especially yours) without complaint. So, don't panic or try to impress; just enjoy their visit...
Love, Me.
ps
At your leisure, find out which places have Kareoke on various nights, preferably with an eight o'clock start, (nine at the latest, because we get a lot more singing time before we have to drive home with the beer sloshing about in our innards..)and send me report on the Pennsy nite-spots, Private!
Posted by: haveayen at May 25, 2005 02:16 PM (SB0/u)
3
Hang in there baby, ya'll will be okay. Just stay the fuck away from those blood thirty lawyers, they will suck you dry. Never trust one, they will sell your ass down the road and then want you to pay for it, take care and goodluck, Cat
Posted by: catfish at May 25, 2005 05:41 PM (tcJfP)
4
Stevie, luv, earlier you mentioned a "prayer for Eric". If you haven't figured it out by know, and even though I've never met either of you, you're both in my prayers every day. All my love, Terry
Posted by: Terry Reynolds at May 26, 2005 12:45 AM (OPRCz)
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