Hrm.

So here's the deal:

• A mobile home in the same community my mom lives in has gone up for sale. Earlier fears that someone had gotten to it first proved to be wrong.


• The community requires a background check. This is in progress presently; I expect to hear back Monday or Tuesday with an all clear. I've nothing to hide anymore, after all.


• Once that's done, I'll get final specs (construction specs) on the trailer so that I can get the required homeowners insurance. Geico apparently offers it; it could be added to my existing automotive policy.


• The next step in things is going to the bank with mom. There're bonds to be cashed that're the core of the monies to pay for the trailer. No financing, outright purchase.


• Then the lease gets signed.


• And then... then the REAL fun starts: Moving.

Now... the reasoning behind all this is a bit grim in spots. While the hope is that the pending doc visit will actually improve my health, there remains the possibility that it will decline further or simply stay at the level it's at. This proposed move covers all the bases in one shot, you see. If I can continue working, as I hope to, then I can carpool the majority of the time with Crystal and save wear and tear on the Explorer. If things worsen, there's still a silver lining: I can afford to live without the work check.

I want to continue working. On the whole, I genuinely like my job. Granted, there are moments when I want to strangle Every Last Living Soul There (well, with an exception), but given my personality I think it's pretty good that those moments aren't the entirety of existence. Irritable? Me? Naaaaah. Never happen. I'm the very embodiment of gentle compassion. I promise.

So... if anyone's been wondering why I've been a bit more erratic than normal, this would be why. I'm not looking forward to again begging friends to help me move. Between my books, my computer gear and my doll collection, it's going to be yet another chaotic jumble of boxes.

At any rate, it's time to put the cabbit to bed. She rambles a bit when it gets this late.