I'm driving up to Massachusetts after work today for a full-out, weekend-long house-hunting marathon. Because as the world has been ever so politely reminding us, WE ONLY HAVE 43 MORE DAYS TO CLOSE ON A HOUSE TO GET THE $8,000 TAX REBATE. And, as you might imagine, house hunting from 350 miles away can be a tad difficult, what with the distance and work schedules and the distance and the time crunch and the distance getting in the way.
And because of these aforementioned difficulties, B will not be accompanying me on this little expedition. Because SOMEONE has to teach those ladies how to swing a tennis racquet this weekend. Instead, my other husband will be joining me: my mom. I bet B's parents didn't know that when I married into the family, they also got my mom as a package deal, cause that's how we roll.
Also accompanying us on this trip will be a motherflipping nor'easter. Cause apparently that's how Northeast U.S. weather rolls too.
Anyway. We have approximately 8 crazilion houses on our list to look at this weekend because, again, that distance thing makes popping up there not quite the easiest thing in the world. Also on our list: beer. And all of this running around and traveling and scheduling and examining and drinking thing is making that marathon training thing pretty difficult and can't I just be done already? No. I can't. Because this weekend I also have to fit in a 19 mile run and dang it I will get my miles.
And yes, I know, poor me running 19 miles through my first New England nor'easter in the wee early morning hours before I have to tackle a frantic day of houses, houses, and houses. Poor, poor me. It's horrible. HORRIBLE, I tell you. BUT YOU CAN HELP! By donating to Back On My Feet, you'll make all of this wretchedness worth it! Please, for the love of gah make this wretchedness worth it. Help get a homeless man or woman back on their feet.