Bloody Hell!

For those who don't remember that far back (or care to), Hunter the dog escaped on 9/22 and I had to bail him out of puppy jail and recieved a citation.

Unfortunately, I did not realize that the citation had my court date on it and I've been waiting for a summons (my only excuses are: I'm stupid, and it occured two weeks after my mother's death so I haven't been in the right frame of mind).

Apparently, I've missed my court date and now have a $384 bail that I must pay by the third or risk a bench warrent (for a 'dog at loose citation'...lovely).

So in-between Christmas, a $200 loan and this, I have 300-400 dollars for bills. *head desk* I'm trying to prove I'm a responsible adult, the fates just won't fucking help out. *grumble*

(I'm going in Monday to see if I can arrange a payment plan, fingers crossed)

Mother f-ing piece of shit...

Home improvement/repair sucks assssss, big, fat donkey ass.

Around 2am we discovered that if we run the washing machine and use the bathroom...it backs up into the tub (*cue ewww now*).

We get it fixed around 3am (before we realized there was a problem with the washing machine in the equation), and I start another load of laundry...

Only to have it back up all over again. Gah!

We get it all fixed, realize we can't do laundry and take a piss at the same time (I'm pretty sure it needs to be snaked or needs a plumber, but none of us have money for that). It's now about 5-6am (sometime after dawn) and Chris and I decide to rip out the carpeting because, ew, toilet water (and other stuff, it's been soaked before and reeks now)...okay, I decided and enlisted baby sis.

We get it pulled up (breaking some of the under linolium, but I'm not really caring about that right now). We take off the door to get the rest of it up...only to have dad have to use the restroom. I tell him the door doesn't shut at the moment (as it's off it's hinges) and turn to leave...only to hear a huge crash behind me. Fearing the worst (like a broken medicine cabinet) I turn around...and discover a broken scone around the light. Finally, something goes wrong that I could give a damn about! I get the door back up, dad uses the rest room, we get the rest of the carpet out, get the door BACK on it's hinges...

And now I really fucking need a cigerette and a god to scream at.

I'm seriously re-considering the idea of bothering to save this place. Might as well let the bank deal with it...maybe they can exorsise it or something, because it's starting to REALLY not be worth it.