Beer Me

I need a cold one. I am overheated, overtired, and tottering precariously on the brink of hysteria. So I finally get a check yesterday - David's whole tax return. Awesome. $1200. I of course rush to the bank to get it in so I can start paying bills. Luckily I got the $230 in cash I owe Ricker, because the ridiculous bank put a 4 day hold on my check - from the State of Washington. "Well, you never know what can happen!" says the too-well-scripted-over-nice bank lady with the polynesian accent on the phone. "We are just protecting your interests." Apparently the State of Washington is bouncing checks like me lately. Well at least we have that in common. Stupid banks, stupid money, stupid brokeness. Oh well, she said my funds would be available to me tomorrow. Isn't that nice?

On a less crappy note, we surveyed about three hundred thousand acres today, and found two unrecorded prehistoric sites. For those of you who are not privy to the world of dorkyology, that means there were cool arrowheads (totally inappropriate and politically incorrect reference), obsidian pieces (flakes) and other tools, that all looked like bits of broken glass to me but apparently bring a cool dime on the black market, which is why you will never learn the location from me. And because I have no idea where the heck we were. I was busy making yard sale signs for Cassie in the back seat on the way out, and sleeping on the way in.

Tally: things that are going RIGHT: tomorrow, I might have access to my money. Eventually, I have two paychecks from the forest service that will find their way to me. My redcard was printed today. That means fire time. God Willing. And I know he is. The Enterprise archaeology team here in Bend is already fraternizing with my boss's boss to recruit me as soon as my boss runs out of funding for me = work in the fall. I GET MY KIDS BACK IN THREE WEEKS!!!!!! Aunt Lynn (god bless her) bought me and her fam (and their new exchange student) tickets to a Keith Urban, John Mayer, and THE AVETT BROTHERS show at the gorge, that I was so woefully bemoaning missing. It was requiring all of my willpower to not steal money to buy a ticket.

So now, after a cool shower, which highlighted my sunburn like a radiant beacon of outdoorsiness, I am going to drag my fat hound dog to the park and hang yard sale signs. Oh crap, my car is out of gas. And my money is frozen in time. For the love of pete. calculate... It's about 5 miles to the park, in addition to the five or six I did today, all uphill and all in heavy timber... ew. I am just too lazy to do it. Plan F (it's easiest just to skip to that one) make BBQ chicken, huge potato salad, brownies, etc for Cassie's going away party, drink wine and feel sorry for myself. Ok, scratch the last part: drink wine and solve all of the worlds problems. And DON'T DRIVE ANYWHERE.