Well, excellent news. Yesterday the stitches were removed from my arm and the scar seems to be healing straight! Phew! What DID sting, however, was the 20 buck copay for a five second procedure (that, regardless of what “medical professionals” may tell me- I could have done by myself.) I mean, it’s not like I begged for this appointment…no no! They made me come back! I was all for glue stitches but NO…apparently they were afraid I was a BLEEDER. (I am.) Calloo for centipede-shaped scars. (You know, with the line for the body and the stitch holes kinda like little legs…no? Okay.)
And I apologize for the teaser opening. But hey, anyone within a 20 mile radius of my apartment (or with a solid t-mobile to t-mobile plan) heard me scream in joy last night, anyhow. We reached an accepted offer with the sellers of our new home! For about 139k below their original listing price! Which is a lot lot lot of money- hey, so is the accepted price but just THINK about how broke we COULD have been! Compared to how broke we’re GONNA be! We spent the first subsequent hour calling and emailing everyone we know (and yes, this includes leaving Facebook messages- don’t hate on progress) and the second hour having a beer and playing Mortal Kombat on Wii. The third hour was spent looking at paint colors (Keely) and looking at real estate we did NOT buy (P.J.). The fourth hour was spent sleeping (Keely) and scouring public records of the property that we’re certain was a rash decision (P.J.). Now we get to do all those grownup things like hire an inspector, have our attorney look over the contract and agree to not buy anything else for thirty years.
So, uh, it looks like we’re buying a house in Albany Park- barring, of course, an inspection that shows bodies in the cellar, rotting walls or a resident ghost. I REALLY don’t want to live in a haunted house.
That kinda thing is for your early twenties.
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