I just got the best news EVER.
RM is moving out at the end of the month. His orders came in.
I've spent the last week thinking, 'I despise this man and cannot wait to have him out of this house.' The money isn't worth it. My sanity is worth more.
Conveniently--I'm not just rationalizing--it was worth it up to a couple of weeks ago. It really was the attempted foot massage that pushed me over the edge. I've had nothing but contempt for him ever since, and the things that I appreciated (he did fix a few things) were irrelevant and the things that I tolerated (the increasing need to pick up after him) bothered me more. Yesterday, I wondered whether I could really take five more weeks. Thankfully, it'll only be two.
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