Stuck at Home

I get to go out today to run and that's it. Otherwise I have to stay home unless on the off chance the appraisers come. Today was supposed to be our closing date, but because of a combination of Wells Fargo fucking up our lives again and the VA not getting an appraisal ordered in time, we won't be closing today. We have about a week before the interest rate we paid to lock isn't locked anymore. This is frustrating beyond words, compounding with my being chained to the house "just in case."

The good news is I got to the grocery store before this whole waiting game began. This is the third day I'm having to wait around the house because the appraisers were "supposed to call" each of these days. If we can actually get something scheduled, I might be able to go out and get the deodorant John needs. Otherwise, he's going to stink. Our evenings have been way too busy as well, so he better haul his ass to the drugstore across the street from work in the next couple days before he has to start using Lady Mitchum. We might have plenty of food to eat, but we'll all be sick from his stink.

I'm trying to find humor in my irritation in all this. I think I'm too irritated to be funny.

I need batteries too. The batteries in my digital camera died, so I have no way to take pictures of my basement before it gets messy again. I couldn't take a picture of our huge trash pile yesterday that made Hammy give a "whoa" worthy of Keanu Reeves when he opened the door to go to school. John and I had to team up to haul out the big, non-working TV and the giganto box of trash. The pile sprawled across our driveway; it was so big. It was recycling day too, so we had an impressive yard-filling mass that probably made the garbage collectors swear at us. The big TV jammed the garbage truck. Heh. And I had nothing with which to take quick and easy pictures, dammit.