Just Sayin’

Dear Buyers of my 12:00 Closing:

Why are you buying a house if you can’t afford to bring $20 to closing for your closing costs?

Your Closer,

AM

I love Jason Mraz!

Video after the jump!

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One of the best parts of the day when you’re a cat owner is coming home and opening the door and getting yelled at for being away all day. 

The past few years, I’ve not really had a sense of home.  Not that I’ve been homeless, not really anyway.  When my dad died in 2004, my ex decided it was our job to move in with my mother and take care of her.  My mother was fiercely independent and refused until she was diagnosed with cancer in 2005.  When the chemo caused her to have a blood clot in her lung, the doctors decided for her and we moved in.  After that, I no longer felt like I had a home of my own.  Sure my things were there but it was still my mother’s house.  Her knick knacks.  Her pictures.  Her furniture.  Her taste in decorating. Her house. 

In 2006, when she passed away, my ex and I decided that we would once again have our own home and started to look.  Before we found one though, he left and I moved in with Grace.  Again, not my house.  Her pictures.  Her furniture.  Her memories.  Her house.

After living with Grace and getting back on my feet somewhat, I moved out into my own apartment.  It was better.  Still not home.  It was completely furnished.  Couch.  Bed.  Dishes.  Scary deer picture on the wall.  The (crazy) landlady’s apartment.

In February, the BF and I moved into an apartment together.  It’s extremely cute.  1 bedroom, 1 bath in the middle of town.  The other day, I walked into the bedroom and the feeling I had startled me.  I hadn’t felt it in a long time.  I felt like I was at home.  I was looking at OUR bed, OUR armoire, OUR desk.  It wasn’t someone else’s light on the desk.  They weren’t someone else’s candle sconces on the wall.  They were OURS. For the first time in almost 4 years, I’m finally where I feel like I belong.  I finally feel like I’m home. 

Now we just need to figure out how to decorate it.  Pictures are after the jump.  Any suggestions?

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Dear Wonderful Attorney That I Work For:

I cannot make someone else do their job faster.  Please don’t make me try to rush them anymore than I already have.  If I’ve left them three voice mails and have sent them numerous emails all within the space of 10-15 minutes and I’ve not gotten a response, please do not ask me every time I come into your line of vision if I’ve heard anything.  No.  I’ve not heard anything.  No.  I’ve not gotten an email or a phone call or the Truth In Lending Statement that you are making me call on.

I am one person.  Please remember that.   Thank you.

Your Faithful Employee,

Ann Marie

Sometimes when I’m ordering a payoff at work, I feel like I’ve bonded with the automated voice.

So, I was motivated this morning and decided to walk to work.  What I was thinking, I don’t know.  It was 76 degrees with 89% humidity when I left, 78 degrees with 83% humidity now, so about the same.  Still hot.  I made it though.  I’m sweaty and disgusting but I’ve got my Cottenelle Fresh Wipes and I’ll be ok.

If I wake up early enough again tomorrow morning, I’ll do it again.  I just hope I remember the deodorant.

So, as Emma noted in the comments on my post about Dexter, I’ve not blogged in a while.  Actually, I have a really good blog story but I hesitate to post it because it’s gossip and it’s about work.  Both of which would be no-no’s, don’t you think? 

Not that anyone who would know anything would read this blog, nor do they even know it exists, it just seems wrong.

But DANG it’s a good story.

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it or not but the BF and I have moved in together.  It happened about 5 months ago.  It’s a cute little apartment in what’s known as the “downtown” section of our community.  Mostly, it’s the courthouse surrounded by a bunch of attorney’s offices, bailbondsmen and empty storefronts.  It used to be a  happening place but not so much any more.

Since the beginning we’d been talking about getting a pet.  We had Mr. Turtle of course, but he’s not exactly cuddly, which is what we were looking for.  Recently, we’d been giving it some real serious thought and had planned to pay the pet deposit and start the search for the perfect pet. 

While at work one day last week, an agent came in to our office with a story of finding a kitten in a truck engine while she was opening a house for an appraiser.  She heard pitiful little cries coming from the truck, went looking and found a little grey and white boykitty.  Being the animal lover that she is, she couldn’t leave him there so she brought him back to her office and was looking for a home for him before she had to take him to the pound. 

She brought him to our office and I fell in love.  He’s cute and cuddly and loves to be around people.  The BF and I immediately went out and bought him all the necessities:  litter box, kitten chow, “stinky goodness”, treats, a fsh dangling from a suction cup stick, a scratchy box and an annoyingly chirpy bird that makes noise every time you touch it.   There was nothing he was lacking.  So it came as a big shock the next morning when he woke us up by ignoring his litter box and using our bed.

We had to wait a day to take him to the vet because it was Independence Day but first thing Saturday morning, there we were getting him checked out.  Being a cat lover all my life, I knew that this type of kitty behavior could indicate a problem.  The vet put him on antibiotics, told us to confine him to one room with his litter box to re-enforce using it and sent us on our way. 

It’s been a week on the antibiotics.  We left him out all last night with no problems.  He was alone when we went to breakfast and the mall and there were no presents for us on the bed or anywhere else when we got home.  It looks like he’ll be able to stay and complete our tiny family. 

And so without further ado…I give you…Dexter.

Read it here.

I need a minute…I think I’m going to cry.