Jason's car is totaled. I know, right? I can't believe it either. I keep telling myself all that matters is that he was unhurt, but the thought of having to buy a new car makes me want to curl up into a little ball and tuck myself into the corner.
Must convince husband he does not really need a $30,000 vehicle. This will be much more difficult than it sounds.
My lame-ass cookie booth did not yield very good results. It was freaking windy, our signs kept blowing away, our balloons totally blew away, I had to yell at the children to not run in the street, and we only sold about 20 of our 95 extra boxes. Plus a real snotty leader showed up at the exact moment my dear friend was in the bathroom with the two little girls. So it looked like my son and I were running the whole booth. SO SHE GOT ON HER CELL PHONE AND "REPORTED" ME. I was reported to the FREAKING GIRL SCOUT'S. For the Love of God.
Forgive my language, but what a complete bitch.
The whole thing, overall? Sucky.
I got on the scale this morning. Okay, who am I kidding? I get on the scale every single freaking day. Which, yes, I know that's bad. But my weigh-in is officially tomorrow. That's what Weight Watchers tells me, so that's what I do.
The number pleased me verily.
Not as much as if it were, say, 120 pounds. But still. It pleased me.
I got my new stove. Did I mention my stove blew up? It was a bad month for me, appliance-wise. Anyway. LOVE the new stove. Shiny, clean, nothing baked onto the bottom. Love it. LOVE IT.
I got my first paycheck (I only get paid once a month) since I got my rather large (for me) raise. It is amazing what a difference it made in my check. I danced a small jig in the living room when my pay-stub showed up yesterday.
No. Really I did.