8:00 A.M. Wake up frightened because my alarm is going off. Think to myself, that clearly must be a mistake I'm way too tired for that to be real.
9:00 A.M. Begin processing loans.
11:00 A.M.-2 P.M. Sit at my computer watching our incredibly slow connection take a minute to load each page. Consider starting Da Vinci naps but don't due to fear of being discovered. I wonder if you could take mini-Da Vinci naps. I believe most people call them cat naps. It's long been a goal of mine to learn to sleep with my eyes open.
Evening-Attend an Ingrid Michaelson concert. Arrive later than I should have because I walk in the exact wrong direction. Can we start implanting babies with GPS systems just to save them a lot of internal annoyance/spousal disputes?
Enjoy the music of Miss Ingrid Michaelson with the other 100 guys and eight hundred girls at the concert. Girls, most of whom appeared to be in high school. Swear that my next concert will be the Rolling Stones so at least we'll feel young.
Aside: Remember when you were younger and you wondered at what age you got to listen to the music that you liked sans judgement? Everyone always claims to have eclectic taste in music. Isn't having eclectic taste just having taste in music? However, the real lie, (that at least I was told) was that at some point it didn't matter what kind of music you listened to. With that in mind I've enclosed a link to a rather happy song at the end of this blog that I like. I'd like to say unashamedly but I'd be lying.
Event from Austin:
M: turns on his version of Pandora
Friend: What is this slow crap?
M: (Sigh/a little part of me dying inside).
Interpolation:
M: See. Everyone else thinks I'm nice. You're the only person who doesn't like me.
S: Remember that I know you better than anyone else.
M: That is the meanest thing that anyone has said to me in weeks.
S: Really?
M: I didn't intend for that to be something you'd be excited about.
Morning inspection-Our home inspection is taking place at 8 A.M. tomorrow morning. And, let's be honest, no matter what he says we're buying the damn house.
Inspector: The foundation is actually set in quicksand. This whole house will be underground in about three years.
M: That gives us time to adapt to breathing sand.
Inspector: The upstairs is actually just a cleverly placed set of mirrors that is reflecting the bottom floor.
M:We'll invite kids over and tell them to play in the funhouse.
Inspector: It appears that shed in the backyard is actually a small-scale meth lab.
M: I'd been wondering how we were going to afford our mortgage.
Anything short of the two of us being shot at as we exit our car will not dissuade me in the least.
Two notes to the parents.
1) No chance.
2) If I start making more than a quarter of a penny a day writing I'll see what I can do for you. I know a good real estate agent or two.
I like any song that builds into a sing-along component. Nice work. If it had had some sort of counting (1,2,3,4) or spelling out of words in the chorus I would have liked it even more. That's my eclectic taste in music.
ReplyDeleteAgghhh weird, Pandora was playing that very Ingrid Michaelson song as I was reading this post. And yes, every time she comes on I begrudgingly admit to myself that she is extremely catchy. Though I'm with Jenny, she would really benefit from some spelling lyrics. But I guess "Ingridlicious" doesn't have the same ring to it.
ReplyDeleteHow much do I love that Shelagh was able to identify the exact allusion I was thinking of? Lots. That's how much.
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