One of Those Nights

Last night was not good. I don't know a better way to describe it. It started with an appraisol of my house by the **most** condescending women I've met. An uncredentialed condescending woman. She wore bedazzled jeans and flip flops to match and was flat out mean. Of course I called my financial advisor today to tell of my experience. He apologized for her. he doesn't even know her and apologized for her. He did ask that I write a "formal letter of complaint". Hmmmmm. So I did. And it was good. Well see if it makes a difference.

How dare her judge my little house.

Fast forward to after she leaves. I head to Blockbuster to ask them, without looking more idiotic than I already do, if I had turned in Star Wars Return of the Sith. Why? Because I've half lost my mind trying to take care of my Dad and carry on with my life. I'm not normally absent minded. In fact I never have been. You can imagine how ridiculous I felt asking such a stupid question.

No, I had not turned it in. And it was two days late. And I have no idea where it is. Do you know what happens when you can't find a movie? You get to buy it. Yup. I got to buy something that was missing. Awesome.

I return home and ask my little angel if he knows where it is. Nope. He was too busy doing this:

Fine. I'll tear up the house and see if I can find it. Good news. It isn't in the house. It's in the TRUNK OF MY CAR.

Now we are stuck with this. You're welcome to borrow it for *free*, but if you loose it, you buy it. 

It was a bitter sweet moment.

Grant and Beckett couldn't have cared less.