Further email epiphanies

Apparently we're truly hoping for this to be the last weekend in the Sullivan house (in a "this year we're going all the way to state!" manner that may ultimately prove to be true or not), and performing lots of actions--turning off water, stealing the phone--that will help the truth along.

I must give snaps to my Mom for having an ideal buyer in mind. I too shall hope for that "nice little old lady with cash" to purchase our house and enjoy all the things we worked so hard to improve. This is a nice way of saying I hope she (I'm picturing someone 90ish) doesn't repaint the entire house pink with bunnies or something.


In other news, I'm stuck in the box office for another hour, I missed breakfast before my 9:00 class, and there are two giant bags of chips staring at me because they know I won't eat someone else's food, even if that someone is the person who will probably show up late again when I'm waiting to leave for lunch. This information only pertains to the above when you try to picture what incredibly bad taste joke I made (I blame it on the hunger, though maybe I wuz cursed!!!) and then edited back out.