Let’s play a little catch up, K? I’ve been crazy busy because the military hates me and seems to think my husband doesn’t need to be at home right now. Seriously, he was gone a week, home a week, stir, add lime, repeat. A couple more times, just to make sure you’ve got the taste. So, in the mean time, rather than making up for lost time and building up the reserves for when he’s gone again, guess what hubby and I have been up to? We’ve been catching up on the first season of The Legend of the Seeker. Don’t know what I’m talking about? Doesn’t really surprise me. The Legend of the Seeker is a television series based loosely on The Sword of Truth books by Terry Goodkind. Absolutely, gloriously full of cheese! It’s fantastic! I love that my husband is nearly as nerdy as me (in fact, it could be argued that he created this particular facet of my nerd) or is content to go along for the crazy ride with me and let me enjoy the gratuitous helping of Craig Horner abs.
I am desperately trying to complete my second book for the CBR II, Inkheart. Not a terribly bad book, just not a terribly good one either. I won’t say anything more lest I spoil my review!
After all the hype surrounding the fundraiser last week, work is painfully quiet. Aside from taking two telephone calls trying to explain why the bank requires an inspection done by an accredited appraiser before they will release funds to continue construction on my client’s house, instead of accepting the inspection done by the municipality. So, since my client seems to be opposed to asking the municipal employee himself whether or not he is accredited, I have called to ask myself. He has yet to return my call. Also, the same client’s lawyer called and left a message for me to call him yesterday, I returned his call this morning and now I’m waiting for him to return my call. Nobody is calling me back. Literally. It’s been like this all week. I might get a complex.
Has anyone round these parts noticed I’m a bit of a Daddy’s Girl? I’m here to tell you that I am. I won’t go into great detail but whenever I have to confront my Father with what I deem to be a controversial subject (read: anything I think will make him mad) I get very, very nervous. I would endure unspeakable tortures before raising my Father’s temper without just cause. And the cause is somewhat subject to interpretation depending on how brave I happen to be on any given day. I have abandoned entire crusades in the name of peace between my Father and I. Well, one crusade in particular really. It happens that this particular situation of which I speak came to a head a couple of months ago and it took me a couple of months to gather the courage to talk to my Dad about it. Ready, willing and able to defend my stance, I broached the subject. Turns out, I got myself in an unnecessary tizzy. I usually do, by the way. My Dad has a short fuse, but the blast is hardly ever as bad as I remember it. In fact, this go ‘round there was no blast at all. Someone please remind me I have a tendency to blow things out of proportion next time (my husband does, regularly). But it wasn’t the lack of blast that was a relief, it was the response itself. Sorry to be so vague, but the story is a long one and to make you understand a five minute conversation, I’d have to tell you damn near my life story.