Here's what went down this week: I bought an apartment. The process, which started over a year ago and was rife with unprecedented demonstrations of flakiness by sellers, bank representatives, and various other parties, took a long time to complete. I almost felt myself age every time I spat into the telephone in elevated tones of rage (fret not, dears: my rage is reserved only for the most uncouth, vile, disagreeable personalities). Oh, I spat into the telephone in elevated tones of rage on an almost daily basis and the experience was unsettling (it left me close to tears and feeling like my insides were shaking) but also cathartic (you haven't lived until you've roared "YOU AREN'T LISTENING TO THE WORDS COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH" and soon thereafter hung up on someone. Sweet, splendid release!).
While I didn't vomit or pass out at today's closing as I had wholly expected I would, the experience did leave me with an intense, anxiety-fueled headache, which, as I expected, was a precursor to a small outbreak of (I never have headaches unless I'm about to break out into hives) hives on my legs.
Oh, hives, you never fail me, do you? You've become my constant companions in stress, my sidekicks, my compadres. I almost don't know what I'd do without you guys popping up whenever I get super stressed or excited. And now that I have the responsibility of a mortgage hovering over me, I expect to be seeing a lot more of you, you crazy guys, you. Super good times to come. Joy.