Come on...all you people who read the Remix's blog, did anyone ever suspect she'd end up moving in with a guy who quotes Motley Crue lyrics as blog titles?
Today is closing day. Approximately two hours from now, The Remix and I will own a home. (Technically, I'll have my name on the paperwork, but who's being technical? Besides, she's paying half the mortgage AND picking out the bedskirt, which I think more than qualifies.) We're both really excited, I think, even in the face of hours and hours of packing left to finish before moving on Saturday.
I have nothing enlightening to say...I've been running back and forth to the dumpster all morning throwing away my excess stuff, and my brain is tired. I'm going to go sign a mountain of paperwork now, then come home to my blood-spattered cats* and half-boxed apartment and finish off the packing. Wish me luck, and the next time you hear from me will be from the new joint, tentatively entitled Pant's Labyrinth. (Yet another long story.)
*The cats went to get declawed this week. The fat one is white, and also stubborn, so the day after surgery he busted open all his wounds and now his paws look like he just massacred the Incas. After not seeing the cats for all of three fucking days, I got misty eyed picking them up (the blood didn't help)--I'm a world class loser, you heard it here first.
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