I've mentioned before that we are currently looking for tenants to occupy the house that I'm making little progress packing up and gearing to move out of. We've had several applicants and I'm happy to report that we've found tenants! I have high hopes that they will be perfect, pay-on-time, make no mess, make no noise, live there forever kind of people!
Time will tell if my hopes become reality.
So I was showing the house the other day, when I was still taking apps, to three young chicas who wanted to be roommates. We had toured the downstairs, we were in the middle of the upstairs, and then the one little chiquita says to me,
"Are you EXPECTING?"
I can only imagine what my face must have looked like, as I turned to her, thinking to myself,
"I'm EXPECTIN' I'm gonna kick your ASS!"
But I simply said, "No."
Trying to dig herself out of the hole, she added some inane comment about how, "Oh, cause when you were sitting on the couch, your stomach looked kind of...." and then she trailed off, maybe because I started walking away, maybe because her friends were giving her the "eye daggers" trying to make her shut up.
They really were nice girls. They even tried to proclaim, "Yeah, you could say I look pregnant, too!"
A really mean part of my brain would have LOVED to say, "You're right. I was WAY skinnier then you when I was your age!" But I managed to hold that part in check.
The majority of my being wanted to grab my roll of cookie dough and crawl under the couch and live there forever with the dust bunnies and the toys and the remote control, of course, cause I could still see the TV from there.
I kept thinking of how I'd pick up hubby from the airport next week and, upon seeing me, he would scream, "AHHHH!! WHY DID YOU EAT MY WIFE???"
But God, being the all-powerful, all-loving, merciful being that He is, decided to give me a wicked awful sore throat so I can't eat cookie dough anymore.
Seriously, I don't get sore throats. I get head colds. I get bad coughs. I can do body aches, nausea and even a little headache. But I DON'T get sore throats! I mean, it was so bad, I went to the doctor to make sure it wasn't Strep. (It's not, by the way, so you don't have to burn this post after you read it. But you might want to wash your hands.)
So how else would I get this if not for the Big Guy? Apparently, He really wants hubby and I to stay together. Maybe the sake of humanity depends on it!
So here I sit, surrounded by mashed potatoes and popsicles, dreaming about soda and cookies, wincing every time I swallow, and STILL PACKING!!!!
But, hey, it could be worse, right? RIGHT????