(no subject)

Apparently my life isn't complete if the parental units aren't having the house refinanced [or... something?] every three months. This means an impressive cleaning must be done and guess what? I feel like crap. My legs are killing me, my ankles are particularly unhappy, and unlike the rest of the people around here, I had Widget all effing morning. I'm also worried my brain is dying or something might be wrong, but worrying doesn't do much other than drive me crazier than I already am. It's just not every day you tell someone "That'll be Price A" and they give you enough to cover that, and you type that in, only to have the register say, "dude, you owe two more bucks." I double check and either I read the damn thing wrong or it changed. Neither option leaves me feeling all that good about my sanity. And things like that kept happening all night. Which probably means it just wasn't my night, but still, not in a happy place. I don't want to clean and people shoving things off on me is not improving my mood, damn it.

On the other hand, Maxine is.