since then, several people (including a zara employee with improbably thick gorgeous glossy hair) have promised to send positive thoughts my way and it must be working because i feel marginally better. but. but i do not deal well with stress (what? you noticed? is it THAT obvious?). this must end.
house - i command you to sell! you have one week, motherfucker!
today i shall exercise (it forces the lung and air thing to work better) and then go to work. it seems now that booking three days of work this week might not be a bad thing since it will force me to focus on calcified mouth matter instead of my house woes, which, come to think, might not be that much of a step up, but i am far less likely to give a shit about your periodontal problems than my own real estate issues.
the day i start hyperventilating because someone refuses to floss is the day i pay someone handsomely to have myself shot.
*i mistyped "clam" and thought it might make a wicked mantra. i mean, have you ever seen a pissed off, stressed out clam? me neither!