I ruined a really nice suit, today. You'd never believe just how badly people care for their cars. I suppose it makes my job easier when the gas lines are leaking. Saves on my professional budget when I don't have to plant more than a length of det cord.
Anyway, I came home this evening, covered in brake fluid, transmission fluid, and gasoline to find my fiance, drunk again, crying on the couch. I thought he'd had another crushing loss, but he waved that away and told me that he's started talking to Jenni before he makes a move financially.
No, apparently, his income is too...sporadic, let's say, for the banks to be willing to talk to him about a mortgage. They won't even talk to him about a NINJA loan, even with our downpayment savings account. If that's not sad, I don't know what is.
I suppose I should take a few of the vacation days I've got stockpiled and get this done in my name. I'm kinda tired of having neighbors stomping on my ceiling at all hours on weekends.
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