Woke up this morning at 9am. For me, that's a sleep in. I got up, accidentally got wax in the wrong part of my eyebrow and took more off that I wanted, showered, my hair felt ridiculously good while rinsing it, shaded in my lame eyebrow, and then found some decent clothes appropriate for the weather. Received a phone call from what I thought was a random number, but actually turned out to be the real estate agent. Michael and I got the house we wanted so desperately ! We move in on the 25th of November once we have bond and 2 weeks advance rent organised. Walked out the front door, smelt smoke, and mother informed me that there's a bush fire in the conservation park up the street from our house.
Went upstairs, attempted to clean my room but only got about half way because it's seriously exhausting work, and then found out that the washing machine broke today. As if having car trouble wasn't enough, now I had to go to the laundry mat with mother. On our way, mother insisted on showing me a car she thought I'd like, since I'm buying another one, but it turned out to be a dud. The whole place was full of dud cars. We did our washing, which was a fuckload more expensive that we assumed, I grabbed sushi for lunch, which was terrible, and then we chose to hang out our washing at home instead of paying more money to use the dryers.
On our way home, I got a phone call from work. They're changing lunch time around at work for the residents, and as such, it means my short 5 hour shifts now become 6.5 hour shifts. I'm completely satisfied knowing that in the past 3 weeks, I've been offered more hours; just enough to cover rent and all our bills, with extra left over if I balance it right. When mother and I got to our street, it was blocked off with witches hats and a police officer. Mother got out and explained to him that we live on that street and needed to get home. All I could think about was Ichigo. We got home, mother made a stupid conversation with the next door neighbours, and I hung out the washing on the line hoping that it won't smell of smoke tomorrow.
Since Michael and I need financial help with covering bond, I decided to look up what assistance we could get. I finally found the forms, went to go print them, and then the printer started to fuck up. First it ran out of paper, so I put more in. Then it wouldn't resume printing, so I cancelled it, turn off the printer and chose to start again. When I had turned it back on, it decided that running blank pages through itself was the smartest idea. As I soon realised, it was actually out of ink but chose to tell me that it was jammed with paper instead. Mother's just left for the new ink cartridges. I wonder if she realises, that because we have one of those totally unnecessarily fancy printers, that it's going to cost a fair bit.
As for the blow fly that had been buzzing around in the same corner of the room for 15 minutes, I finally got the fucker with the fly spray. Which, mind you, is labelled in a completely different language, one I'm not sure I recognise. The only English on the can is "Mortein Ultra." Whatever; it did its job well.
And it's only just gone 5 o'clock.