Wah, wah, wah

Vacation Diary Day Two:

I feel like I worked today. Jaysus.

CJ wrote on facebook: "Man, everybody's cranky!" 

No shit, Sherlock.

Karen wrote on her blog about being all bouncy and happy and snorting a snowflake and, seriously, I just wanted to pop her one!

Sitting down to write my blog earlier tonight, Dave, heretofore described as The Perfect Male, sat beside me on the kitchen floor and started organizing the bills. He was trying to be quiet about it but every once in a while he stuck one of my bills next to my keyboard. "I don't want to disturb you," he said in a shushy voice. "I'll just put these here so you can go through them when you get a chance."

You know, the shushy voice. Like he was afraid to wake the baby.

I know Dave.

When he says "when you get a chance" that means "get off your lazy ass and do it NOW, bitch!"

Since I don't like paying bills, I found the growing pile of manilla envelopes three inches from my left hand offensive. I tried to ignore them. Warn't happening, though. Finally I just grabbed one, looked at it to see if it needed paying or filing or throwing out, and tossed it in the throwing out pile.

Then I grabbed another one. And so on. Until I had gone through half a dozen post-Christmas-higher-than-a-moonshiner-with-a-leaky-still bills and was thoroughly depressed and pissed off.

"There," I said, all huffy. "Are you happy?"

Nothing makes me huffier than seeing how much money I owe.

I turned off the computer and marched into the bedroom. There was no way I could write my blog now. Not when I was all huffy. You can't write a blog when you're huffy. You can barely write one when you're puffy. I know this.

Dave rolled his eyes. I knew he was thinking how he used to be happy before I moved in. I rolled my eyes back. ("That'll fix you," I thought.)

So then the phone rings. It's my mother, canceling our lunch date tomorrow. 

"It might snow," she says. 

You have to know my mother. If there's a flake of snow in the forecast, and I mean a flake, she freaks out. (Maybe she has post-traumatic stress from snorting one, like Karen did.) 

You'd think she just moved here from Florida, the way she carries on. What kind of self-respecting Canadian worries that "it might snow?"

Here's tomorrow's forecast for our area from Environment Canada: Cloudy. 40 percent chance of flurries in the morning. High minus 4.

Ooh, those flurries... might turn out to be the next storm of the century.

I swear I was adopted.

P.S. There were a few bright spots but I'm too cranky to mention all of them. God forbid I start being happy when I'm settling into such a nice funk.

The one good thing I'll tell you about was taking this photo at the Land Registry office in Bracebridge (I was there doing some research on my house.... tell ya about it later. Maybe.) I took some photos for Slife tomorrow and it wasn't until I got looking at them at home that I noticed something peculiar about this photo. I was there for an hour and a half and I never noticed until now.

Can you see what it is?