Just. Made. Offer. On. 1st. House. In. Mah. Life.
(breathes into brown paper bag)
You do know this is gonna run me more than a hundred bucks, right?
( I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful. I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful.)
Like even more than a thousand bucks. Or ten.
Maybe even more than that. And then carry the one.
Were you aware of this fact?
That's U.S., by the way, not like, Schrute bucks or anything. which yeah, sure, I'd definitely be on the winning end of that transaction if it were, what with the favorble conversion rate. (and no, I don't know how many Stanley nickels that works out to be.)
(Hi, I'm Bob. Will you knock me out? Just punch me in the face.)
But I think it wil be worth it. There are closets at this house. REAL ones. Not the fake-ass shit for brains ones I've been dealing with for the past SIX. YEARS.
Also handy is the nice yard. And other cool stuff that comes with houses.
Like not my bitchy, flakey puff landlady, just as example, you know, off the top of my head.
(This is scrumptious, Fay. Is this hand shucked?)
I hope I am not jinxing anything my writing this.
Also, hope I am not jinxing anything by um, pricing out hot tubs. (oh no, I've said too much.)
Odds of me going to sleep tonight? Takers?
(Isn't this a break through? I'm a sailor now, I sail. Out on the lake way far away from shore.)
And now I see that my coping mechanism for stressful, big ticket purchases is quoting What About Bob? ad nauseum. ....Huh.
Please, fingers crossed.