The funny disease.

Friday, November 04, 2005

Right Down the Funny Drain

I’ll have to be honest with you, Readers. (Not that I’m not always honest.) I think that the house-buying thing has sucked the funny right out of my head. It’s odd, because usually I laugh at inappropriate moments. The twitch in my eye has migrated to my upper arm, and the stabbing pains in my lower back have moved back in. I feel like a sociological experiment in sleep deprivation. And I can see from that last sentence that the paranoia stage has set in.

If this house actually closes as planned, I should be in stellar shape for moving and making decorating decisions. Maybe that explains the Frankenpaint house. What, you may ask, Dear Reader, is at the end of this lovely rainbow? Why, a job-hunt, of course. It’s just the relaxing vacation I need from the wondrous world of Realty.

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