Update

So much to review. Too much, almost. It's slightly overwhelming to think about, so I'm just going to dive in and hopefully get it all covered in a random, hectic fashion.

I'm baking chicken right now. If you know me at all, this should be a total shock and surprise. Anyway, I've got about half an hour before I need to think about prepping the sides. I'm also going to make some rice and maybe stir fry vegetables or perhaps just peppers like last time I made chicken - a week ago and again a few days ago, but I used the George Foreman for the chicken the first time and I fried it on the stove the second time. I also have some Tilapia I need to start cooking and eating here soon, but I need to Google how to make it since I never have and I'd rather not just guess while cooking any type of meat. Oh, and everything is fine, by the way. Usually I start cooking like a mad man when I'm dealing with some particularly troubling mess or personal crisis. I'm just cooking this time - no pretense.

I moved back home a few weeks ago as well. I had quite enough of the whole domestic partnership experiment. Here's a tip and you probably already know better, (but I'm stubborn and foolish and will never take any advice that I haven't personally tried to disprove first) but NEVER live with and work with anyone. Not if you want all parties involved to survive, anyway. It should be obvious enough, but again... I can't be told anything until I'm ready to hear it, not even from myself. So, whatever, that mess is over and we barely managed to salvage a relationship of any kind toward the end of it. It got really nasty. I'm not going to rehash, but... It was ridiculous.

Nurse Egg provided the down payment and is the primary on a second vehicle for me to use and make the payments on. I'm waiting on offers for parting out the Jeep. It's done. There's no saving it anymore. It's fine though. I love my new car. I haven't had a car for a decade. It's been all SUVs and trucks - stick shift even. Now I'm zipping around in this little automatic car. It's like driving a go-cart or something.

Work is fine. The temp job at a warehouse that was only originally meant to be 1-2 weeks became 4 and then 5 and now 6. It was meant to end, but I'm going to start working in another building next week at the same company. I'll be in production, actually making things or maybe just boxing them up to send them over to the warehouse. I don't know. We'll see, I suppose. I was supposed to make that transition a week ago but my boss kept postponing it to keep me with him in the warehouse. Because I'm awesome, obviously.

Lost 20 pounds since starting that job by not really doing anything different except working for a living. That's an awesome bonus. It probably would have been a larger loss if I wasn't always painting everything all the time. You don't burn a lot of calories painting. Oh well. I definitely need to wear a belt now.

Grandpa is back in the hospital. Situation is much worse than it was back in January. Nurse Egg was the family relay this time around which is just as well since this is more here area of expertise than it ever was or will be mine. Taking a break from my usual role of family herald/diplomat was rather odd but nice. Anyway, I'm sure if you know anything about the situation you already know as much or more than I do about it. Again, this isn't really my area of expertise, so I won't bother with any of the details.

We're moved into the house. So long, condo. It was... very Stepford. We live on a tiny dead end street now. There's about nine houses on our street. It's very quiet. There's a police officer with police dogs two houses over on one side with a sweet, little old couple living between us and him. On the other side is a large Latino family in an ugly ass orange house and someone else on the other side of them. I don't know anything about that house other than an old lady used to live there and she was a hoarder. But, someone else lives there now. I only know something about one of the houses on the other side of the street. Directly across from us is a deaf man. He left us a note in our mailbox introducing himself, explaining his condition, and informing us as to when to put our garbage and recycling cans out. There is one strange thing about this quiet little dead end community: every single house on our street has a basketball hoop - even the frail old couple have one - except for us. Our driveway is the only driveway on the entire street that doesn't have a basketball hoop in it. I'm not sure why, but it's perplexing and disappointing. I wonder if they're all secretly hoping we'll install one so we can form a full team or something. I wonder if they're going to hold it against us and judge us harshly when we never do. In any case, I might get some pictures up shortly or I may wait until all the rooms are finished being painted next week.