So after all that grumbling bitching and whining about being soo tired I never went to bed that night until midnight. I was engrossed in looking at houses, lost track of time and next thing I know, BAM it's midnight.
Also all my talk of self restraint when it comes to bathing suits was a big fat stinking lie. I bought another one from Bootlegger. It was only 40 bucks, so it's not that bad. But still. It was pretty and brown and green and said "the sweetness of life" in script writing on the bum. I couldn't resist. So I'm officially at the count of 22 now. Maybe I really do have a problem. Oh well, it feels so good to spend (money I don't have).
Our house is officially sold now, they came and signed papers and gave us a deposit so we don't sell it out from under their noses. Which is cool, so we are spending the half day tomorrow looking for a new one. I say half day because the people I work with are assholes. I covered a shift for someone last week and she said she'd return the favor for me but refused to answer the phone today when I tried to ask her to cover. So now I have to be back in town by four tomorrow. What a Bitch. Whatever happened to people returning favours? I guess it's just too much to ask.
And something completely out of left field here, if Grey's Anatomy is another rerun next week I swear to god I'm gonna kill someone. They can't just do that to me; tease me with preview of the next show and then show a fucking rerun. Bastards.