Drained

Normally on Mondays visitors to The Cheese Party usually come upon a photo, but today you are out of luck. I haven't picked up my camera since Lucy's hilariously unfortunate vaseline incident. Last week kicked me squarely in the ass, and I'm still kind of limping around. Four out of five of us are sick. In fact, I just got back from dragging the three littlest sick ones to the doctor's office.

(Side bar: why is it that whenever I have to take all three kids to the doctor's office, the only available exam room is approximately the size of a phone booth?)

(Double side bar: at what point do you think referencing the size of a phone booth will become obsolete? Seriously, I haven't seen one in years. I'm old.)

Luckily, no one is seriously sick. Just annoyingly, snot on everything sick. But somehow I'm the only one who wants to nap every day. The other three sickies want to run around like maniacs with ribbons of mucus trailing behind them. Well, Maggie can't run, but that doesn't mean she doesn't want to.

We don't have any showings scheduled for today, which makes me one part relieved and one part anxious. Last week we had eleven showings and twelve parties at our open house, but no one has made an offer yet, which is keeping me up at night. Which is likely the reason I'm always wanting to nap.

(For serious, I went to bed at 8pm last night. On fucking Big Love finale and Oscar night. And I don't just mean in bed. I was lights out, drooling on my pillow by 8:05. So, so lame.)

Hopefully a few of the more interested parties will be back around some time this week, because I don't know how much of this I can take. If it takes too long, I might have to take the money from the sale and use it to buy a lifetime supply of valium.