Two weeks before I left for my vacation I think I wrote a post about being super anxious.
I could actually go back and find that post but I have a belly full of mac 'n cheese and it's preventing me from doing any more movement than necessary lest it stir me from my mid-day semi-slumber.
I was anxious about Corey and my house-hunting progress and the lack thereof. I saw houses I liked and I just wanted to get one already.
No, my darling husband and I did not find and/or purchase a house, but we did finally take some pretty big steps and are just this close to being homeowners!
The only thing standing in our way is, um, finding the house.
There was also this little matter involving a super dooper craft fair going on in my town later this spring for which I applied to sell my felt goodies. It's the kind of fair that draws 30,000+ people over the weekend and only lets certain vendors in.
More good news.
They lost my application.
Hold the phone, just let me finish.
So, they have absolutely no record of me existing. Even though I hand delivered my application to the office in an envelope that was clearly marked "June Festival," it has been hopelessly lost.
In a series of emails with the person in charge I tried my darnedest to find out what this meant for me without actually asking, "What the heck does this mean, lady? Am I in or out??"
And then I left the dirty work up to my co-worker. After getting no where in the emailing, and having to leave for vacation the next day, Sharon marched down to the office and worked some kind of magic that landed me a spot in the show...woohoo!
See, good news.
It just takes me a few extra minutes to get to the end of the story.
I like stories.