Back to the best damn blog post I’ve ever thought of. Not a random post about celebrities who I will never be (but I did post one yesterday: READ IT), not a post about my fitness (but here’s last week’s!), and not some random post (Like a really good Valentine’s day post). Nope, this is my real life. And today, it’s good!
- First, it’s OFFICIALLY OFFICIAL. I’m employed by a government recognized company and they have no idea what they’re in for. Sarcasm 24/7.
- In May 2015 I left home with a substantial bank account (Like my savings account was pretty nice for a early 20’s female). Drained it without being employed for two months when I decided to “learn Lincoln”, and started rebuilding it around June when I finally got a job. With the help of my savings bonds, I got it back up to it’s peak in November. Then we moved again. I paid to break a lease, start a new lease, pay for 100 things wrong with my car, buy MANY Christmas presents, and just pay to LIVE. Then I spent a solid two months crying and panicking and crying some more. BUT PRAISE JESUS because thanks to my taxes, a super forgiving and helpful fiance, and three part time jobs, I’m FINALLY going to have my savings account back at the end of February. Praise. I don’t think anyone freaks out about money like I do, where as Dylan books weekend getaways because he gets excited to have a bank account again.
- I cut my calories and pretty much want to cut everyone… I’m HOPING this will throw me on some type of weight loss track for the last five weeks of Farrell’s, but I might kill someone in the mean time. Which brings me to my next point.
- I met our upstairs neighbors. (No, I don’t want to kill them) In a middle of the night rage, after being awaken from running around above me, I once again let my building manager know EXACTLY how I felt about living beneath these people. We had a nice long follow up phone conversation, which led to a face to face meeting when my neighbor showed up at my door tonight. Guess what? She listens to when Dylan & I fight. She hears me pee. She can’t sleep at night because of our fan (she doesn’t sleep though, because she’s a tap dancer)… This building has no barriers. Awesome. Upside, we aired grievances in person, and kinda decided to “work together”, and I let her know that 10:00pm would be the best time to “cool it”. (I’m being far more dramatic than I need to. She was SUPER nice, it was well received, we both collectively hate living here for different reasons.)it’s the little things…?