Two charges to the Sears mastercard that Angel swears aren't ours. Can't find the card - it was in storage in the box of important things in the kitchen - said box is here, but I can't find the important things that were in it. Angel is no help; all he remembers is "Umm... I handed you the things from it and you put it in a box somewhere." Angel is no help anyway at the moment, he's at work and when he's not at work I've forgotten all the thousand things that need to be done.
[Edit: Angel called, they're reissuing the cards and sending us an affadavit to sign, as I am no longer uncertain - I know I did not make the third charge that was made to the card.]
It's a nice fridge.
I have no place to put incoming mail, no place to keep important papers except down on my computer desk where I demanded filing slots, and no sense of pride and acccomplishment right now.
I want to go home. I don't want to be a doctor, I don't want to be a housewife, I just want to hide away in a tiny dark corner forever and ever and ever.
clypheous, I'm shaping my day poorly. Make it stop.