Um, yeah, so my car registration has expired. Officially. Fuck. I’m so fucked! Not only do I still have Maryland tags and driver’s license even though I live in Pennsylvania, but now I have expired tags too. Sweet. That’s freaking awesome.
It’s my own fault. I waited until the last minute to renew my registration – literally the last minute. I hate my own laziness sometimes, but, of course, I’m too lazy to do anything about it. Anyway, so I printed off the temporary registration, tossed out the old registration card and figured the new stickers would be mailed to me on time.
Know what? I have a feeling they don’t forward those things and they’re sitting in the mailbox of my old house. My house which has been sitting on the market since April of last year. The one who’s price has been lowered by $50,000 and is now on the market for less than what I paid for it. The one that no one wants to go and look at because no one wants to buy a house right now because the market sucks. So instead I get to pay rent and mortgage and drive around with a car with expired registration.
It’s no wonder all I want to do is eat my feelings and watch daytime TV today.
I am literally going to sit here in my pajamas all day long and not talk to a single person today. In fact, the only words that will probably come out of my mouth are “fuck” when I mess something up, or “damn it” when I mess something else up.
Christ, I must be PMSing or the whole world is against me.
A day of speaking to absolutely no one sounds fantastic!