Any kind of cheese. Seriously. I'm hungry.
I started WW on line last week. I lost a pound and a half. (can you believe I'm measuring by half pounds? nuts.) I was so hungry and that was it. One and a half pounds. Pitiful.
Our tenant was supposed to be out of the house yesterday. She's still in the house. She asked us to do her a favor and give her more time. Why wouldn't I do her a favor? Let's see... Maybe I won't do you a favor because you haven't paid up all the rent you owe me. Maybe I won't do you a favor because you've never paid me back for the DOZENS of times I've paid MetCom to turn your water back on because you didn't pay your bill. Maybe I won't do you a favor because you have completely trashed my house. You've made those houses on Hoarders look good to me. You've used the back yard of my house like a city dump. You've been storing trash in the garage. And, I don't think you've done the dishes in a year. So, why wouldn't I do you a favor? You've certainly done so much for me.
Stress. Stress. Stress.
So now I have to go to court and have you evicted. Btw, you want to hear how great eviction works out for the evil landlord? I've got to go to court and file the paperwork to get you out. Then the court assigns me a day to come back to court (read, take a day off of work) to say, "Judge, I want my tenant out of my house. They have stopped paying rent to me." Then, at the convenience of the county police department, an officer with an eviction notice will stop by the house and let them know they have 48 hours to leave the premises. (I'm betting they don't answer the door. just guessing, but what do you think.) This may take a while. Finally, they will accept the eviction notice and have 48 hours to clear out their stuff.
What does this mean to the evil landlord? They aren't going to take their stuff. Their stuff is mostly garbage. Now the county will take their stuff and haul it out to the curb. (I'm guessing there won't be anyone that wants to touch their stuff, but we will see.) Guess what? If, by some chance someone hauls the crap out to the curb, I have 48 hours to get the crap off the curb or the State Highway Association will give me a hefty citation for littering. (I am not even kidding about this.)
Do we want to start a pool to find out when those deadbeats will be out of my house and I can start making them a distant memory? Thanksgiving? Christmas? Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday?
Stress. Stress. Stress.
To relax, we thought we would watch some football last night. During the game, I have to hear the political campaign commercials. One particularly annoying commercial is Obama's "47%" commercial. It uses the sound bite of Romney in a closed-door conversation with donors saying he isn't worried about the 47% of Americans that receive entitlements, they aren't going to vote for him, anyway. This is played with images of working people, mostly white people, insinuating that Romney does not care about working people. It made me sick. It made my husband's blood pressure rise. So much for a relaxing evening watching the game.
The stress of this situation is spilling into all areas of our lives. I'm a stress eater and I'm on a diet. We went out to dinner Saturday night with another couple. Two of us (not me) got our dinner (after a considerable wait). FORTY minutes later, the other two of us got our dinner. During those 40 minutes of waiting I complained about the bad service to our dining companions. I was told there was nothing we could do and just enjoy the conversation. I tried, but evidently I was unable to put on my "happy face." I apologized for my bad attitude and made an effort to enjoy the meal. I wasn't successful. I was hungry. (btw, my husband called the restaurant when we got home and asked to speak to the manager. he told him what happened and the manager asked him what the problem was. evidently serving the diners at a table in two shifts is perfectly acceptable service. who knew?)
My husband was mad at me. I was mad at the restaurant. We are not having a good time at our house.
If you are inclined to pray, we'd love some prayer over this situation. And if not the situation, please pray for our attitudes. Also, we are both huge fans of imported brie cheese. We like most cheese, but I'd say brie is our favorite. Just sayin'. :)
605. Forgiveness
606. Friends
607. A sense of humor (I know there is one in here somewhere)
608. Salad
609. Hey, I lost a pound and a half.
I started WW on line last week. I lost a pound and a half. (can you believe I'm measuring by half pounds? nuts.) I was so hungry and that was it. One and a half pounds. Pitiful.
Our tenant was supposed to be out of the house yesterday. She's still in the house. She asked us to do her a favor and give her more time. Why wouldn't I do her a favor? Let's see... Maybe I won't do you a favor because you haven't paid up all the rent you owe me. Maybe I won't do you a favor because you've never paid me back for the DOZENS of times I've paid MetCom to turn your water back on because you didn't pay your bill. Maybe I won't do you a favor because you have completely trashed my house. You've made those houses on Hoarders look good to me. You've used the back yard of my house like a city dump. You've been storing trash in the garage. And, I don't think you've done the dishes in a year. So, why wouldn't I do you a favor? You've certainly done so much for me.
Stress. Stress. Stress.
So now I have to go to court and have you evicted. Btw, you want to hear how great eviction works out for the evil landlord? I've got to go to court and file the paperwork to get you out. Then the court assigns me a day to come back to court (read, take a day off of work) to say, "Judge, I want my tenant out of my house. They have stopped paying rent to me." Then, at the convenience of the county police department, an officer with an eviction notice will stop by the house and let them know they have 48 hours to leave the premises. (I'm betting they don't answer the door. just guessing, but what do you think.) This may take a while. Finally, they will accept the eviction notice and have 48 hours to clear out their stuff.
What does this mean to the evil landlord? They aren't going to take their stuff. Their stuff is mostly garbage. Now the county will take their stuff and haul it out to the curb. (I'm guessing there won't be anyone that wants to touch their stuff, but we will see.) Guess what? If, by some chance someone hauls the crap out to the curb, I have 48 hours to get the crap off the curb or the State Highway Association will give me a hefty citation for littering. (I am not even kidding about this.)
Do we want to start a pool to find out when those deadbeats will be out of my house and I can start making them a distant memory? Thanksgiving? Christmas? Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday?
Stress. Stress. Stress.
To relax, we thought we would watch some football last night. During the game, I have to hear the political campaign commercials. One particularly annoying commercial is Obama's "47%" commercial. It uses the sound bite of Romney in a closed-door conversation with donors saying he isn't worried about the 47% of Americans that receive entitlements, they aren't going to vote for him, anyway. This is played with images of working people, mostly white people, insinuating that Romney does not care about working people. It made me sick. It made my husband's blood pressure rise. So much for a relaxing evening watching the game.
The stress of this situation is spilling into all areas of our lives. I'm a stress eater and I'm on a diet. We went out to dinner Saturday night with another couple. Two of us (not me) got our dinner (after a considerable wait). FORTY minutes later, the other two of us got our dinner. During those 40 minutes of waiting I complained about the bad service to our dining companions. I was told there was nothing we could do and just enjoy the conversation. I tried, but evidently I was unable to put on my "happy face." I apologized for my bad attitude and made an effort to enjoy the meal. I wasn't successful. I was hungry. (btw, my husband called the restaurant when we got home and asked to speak to the manager. he told him what happened and the manager asked him what the problem was. evidently serving the diners at a table in two shifts is perfectly acceptable service. who knew?)
My husband was mad at me. I was mad at the restaurant. We are not having a good time at our house.
If you are inclined to pray, we'd love some prayer over this situation. And if not the situation, please pray for our attitudes. Also, we are both huge fans of imported brie cheese. We like most cheese, but I'd say brie is our favorite. Just sayin'. :)
605. Forgiveness
606. Friends
607. A sense of humor (I know there is one in here somewhere)
608. Salad
609. Hey, I lost a pound and a half.
