"Life Event"

When Mike proposed, he didn't get down on one knee.
He sent me an engagement letter.

And, then, when he asked if I would file jointly with him, I told him that I would with reasonable assurance.

Ah, accountants.

Disclaimer: that is not how Mike proposed or how it happened AT ALL. That is not to say that this method didn't cross his mind, but he did not go through with it. Therefore, I am obliged to tell you that it is not a true story, and I suppose I'm not living up to my name.

Good thing I'm about to have a NAME CHANGE. *zing!*

Fancy H's and r's ~ Letters with which I have no experience.

I may just have to buy a rubber stamp signature. Rubber stamps seem so "meh" as a kid but are actually quite appealing as an adult. Like refried beans.
I have an obscene relationship with refried beans.

What if the song Chocolate Rain was about white chocolate?
That would change the whole dynamic, I think.

At one of our first Bible study groups, one of the ice breaker questions was, "If you could own any kind of restaurant, what would you own?"
I totally nerded out and said something like, "I wouldn't own a restaurant outright. I would invest in a limited partnership that owned and managed the restaurants."

I really hate the idea of owning a restaurant, and I think everyone kind of does, but I didn't want to be lame and say, "I wouldn't own a restaurant."
So instead, I came up with some daffy tax answer.
Yay, me.

A while ago, in the old building where I used to work, some people came into my office to look at the ceiling tile/roof leak in my office.
I didn't understand the fascination.

One week, it rained. So, naturally, Savannah flooded, and the rain came through the little holes in the roof and dripped into my office. It didn't ruin any important documents in the time that I was there, so that was cool. Probably because I didn't leave any important documents just laying around. Hashtag client service.

The day after that happened, a guy came to look at the small rain stain, and he handed me his business card.
Like, he just looked it.
According to the business card, he was the "Estimator".
And it's so awkward when there's like another stranger in a closed space such as an office, so I just left and hung out in the bathroom or something because it is so awkward.

Then after that, two more guys came out to just look at it and admire my ceiling like it was some great spectacle or museum exhibit for old water stains.

And since more people in my office equals more awkwardness, I left and hung out in the bathroom.

Unfortunately, those guys smelled really bad. After they left, I walked into my office only to be confronted with an unruly stench of roof repair and manual labor.

Except they didn't repair anything. They just looked at it and somehow still managed to make my office smell.

It wasn't even the good kind of construction worker smell (like gasoline, sawdust, and Gatorade). It was a body odor, mildew, roadkill kind of a smell.

What I'm trying to tell you is that I am very, very happy.
And, also, some people stink.

Sometimes in more ways than one,
TWS