Feb. 22nd, 2012

kittydesade: (put some pants on)
Gaeilge )

You know, I didn't actually forget that, usually, you're sore the next day. And somehow I thought it would be worse than this. That said, ow. Although more oof than ow. Really, really tired, physically exhausted. Starting to hit brain drain, too. The point at which I cannot cope with taking in any new information without letting go of some of the old.

That said, hopefully the bank visit today will clear some of that. If we can get the paperwork done on that and get a time estimate on completion, I'll know when to start the clock between now and Friday morning. And then the inspector has an appointment open next week that's pretty close, that will fit right into everyone's schedule, and I can get that rolling too. And then we still have until mid-April to close, but sweet mother they want this closed fast. I wouldn't have so much of a problem if they weren't trying to rush me through it fast enough that I doubt my ability to get everyone else to move as fast. I mean, I want to curl up and nest in Old Hotness and fend off all comers, but really? A week? To get all the financials and inspections done? Seriously?

I suppose the relatively good thing is, even if the house does appraise for less, I suspect my family can leap in to cover the gap. I really, really don't want to have to go to them, though, and be all "Yeah, the banks are fucking me over, can I have $Canada more to cover between what it appraised for and therefore what the Horse and Cart bank will give me, and what Jackass Bank is actually selling it for?" Ugh.

Although of all the difficulties, this is... not the one I expected.

Proof that my town is wackier than yours. A local weapons/ammo manufacturer is making anti-zombie ammunition. The article says it's live, defensive-quality ammo, with such features as glow in the dark tips. I have no idea if they're selling the apparently very good crack they're smoking with the rounds, but. My god. This town be crazy, yo.

Okay, at this point I think I've gone over what I need to do today enough times in my own head that I might even remember it as it's happening. If not, I've talked about it enough here, those of you who find me in chat can smack me upside the head and remind me. After this week I am curling up over the weekend and doing nothing but immersing myself in fake people problems. TV, books, writing of my own, whatever. Fake people problems that I can solve by turning off the TV, closing the book, or closing the document. Because I am sick and tired of my real people problems/obligations already, and it's only Wednesday. ... Shit, really? When the hell did it get to be Wednesday? Dammit, time, stop passing when I'm not looking, slow down so I can catch up.

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kittydesade: (two in red)
Deutsch )

I keep thinking I'm going to get a rest the next day. And it keeps not happening. I did manage to get in a fifteen minute nap at work, which you can do when you work for a family business and you've been staggering around wrecked all morning, and everyone knows you're locked in a death match with a bank. My iSis alarm sounds like a klaxon alarm more than an alarm clock. It kind of amuses me.

Right, so. We did the paperwork, got the certified funds for the Yes-We're-Serious-About-This deposit which will be the third freaking check I've sent along to them. And now I need to burn the other two voided ones. Passed it along to Realty Lady in a startlingly clandestine covert ops type handoff. Seriously, she pulled up in a non-descript SUV, I walked up with a briefcase and a sheaf of papers and done. All that's missing is Matt Damon with his soberserious face getting ready to run somewhere. Anyway, that's done, and she'll turn it in tomorrow which is a day and a few hours short of their deadline to turn it in, which starts the clock and then there's just the inspection to get past and the Horse and Cart bank to deal with. Which, everyone at Horse and Cart has been absolutely sweet and amazing. It's the selling bank that makes me want to shake them and tell them to stop being a big bag of dicks.

Okay, so, you remember yesterday's howling mouse? Today science brings you legless amphibians. I swear, truth stranger than fiction. There's pictures, too. They really do look like earthworms.

Oh, and since I posted it on tumblr, we have Rumplestiltskin's wheel in our store. Both of them, actually. The first is the great wheel or walking wheel he uses in all of his past scenes, and the second is the smaller one he had in his hut. And at some point when I get home, someone remind me, I will dig up a screencap of Desperate Souls and point out where he has spinning accouterments in the back of his shop. Because I about died of giggles when I saw them. I swear, part of my enjoyment of Once Upon A Time is the fact that they're constantly having Rumplestiltskin be doing things with the spinning. That said, I still have no idea what the hell was going on with the setup of the great wheel in the scenes in Skin Deep. I'd have to go back and look, but it really didn't look like it should if one was actually spinning.

Which leads to, dammit. I should have asked Robert Carlyle if he actually learned to spin for OUAT. Oh well. Next time he's on.

(Oh. And this is my own wheel. Only now it's buried in a pile of other crap because my tinyass craft room doubles as the storage room and I can't WAIT to be moved into Old Hotness so I can HAVE SOME GODDAMN ROOM TO SPIN.

The answer to Belle's question of "Why do you spin so much?" is clearly "BECAUSE I CAN.")

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