In better news, all the lights in my house now work, and I now have a toilet seat that doesn't hissssssss when you sit on it (f***ing snake, get off my dick!). I yanked the random nails and screws out of the walls, and I'll have fun going around the house equipped with spackle. Spackle is a fun word. Spacklespacklespackle. Weee. I get to be a real do-it-yourselfer. Rarr.
I took my family and Jesse to Don Pablos for dinner. We non-minors got giant margaritas. I must be getting old though. I was going to order an iced tea, but the waitress suggested a margarita since it was nice out, and she didn't even card me. Do I not look 16-18 any more? Goodness gracious. Maybe I'm getting wrinked prematurely or something. Or maybe I look like an actual grownup. *shudders*
Well, since apparently the world sees me as a grownup now, I should go pay my taxes and play golf. Even though I already sent in my tax forms, and nobody plays golf at 11:00 at night. Ha. Or maybe I should just change my Depends, have an Ensure nightcap, and go to bed early. In my oh-so-grownup Spongebob sheets.