Drumroll Please...

I passed. That's right. I can now officially start going to work. Let me explain the real estate exam for those of you who are less inclined to care. It sucks. It is worded awkwardly, it's just a tad to long, and the room is of course, too cold. Half way through, you're sitting there, praying that you pass. Not because you really care, but because you realize, you are only halfway done and the worst thing in the world would have to come back to this cold little room and sit here through the whole thing again. You don't even want to sit through the second half. A whole other session? I don't think so. But luckily for me, I passed. No more tests or classes. Granted, I know nothing. Did I mention that after over a month of "learning", I still don't know squat. You would think that after that, you would at least feel competent. Nope. Not the case. The classes are a joke, and the test is from hell. All you learn is how to pass it. So even though I'm done with actual class work, I still have to learn. But I can handle learning. I "learn" everyday. I mean, just this weekend I learned that the more I drink, the more mystery cuts and bruises I will find on my body the next day. Thus my segue to the weekend...

Oh the weekend. Started off chill. Just drinking at the neighbors. I mean I started around 4:30, but it was Friday, so that's allowed. Then had appetizer beers. Then dinner beers. Then dessert beers. Staggered home after one some time. Called it an early night.

Saturday. Wake up to the phone, never pleasant. I have been trying, unsuccessfully to have my friends come to my house. Boat weekend. Who doesn't like boat weekends. Anyway, so I get the call. Jump up. Start trying to prepare for the invasion. Little do I know they wont be arriving for 5 more hours. As I run around like a crazy person. Cleaning the house, then bathing myself. Beep beep. Text message."Ok, we're gonna go eat then head down". Oh, all right. Guess I can cool the jets. Like I said, 5 hours later. Not complaining, just a slight miscommunication that made me run around like a chicken with her head cut off.

Get to boat, start drinking, start making goooood decisions. Wake boarding, fun. Falling, ok. Hitting the bottom of the lake at full force, I could do without it. Apparently we ended up in 3 ft of water. Oops. No big thing, the drinking numbed my leg. But hey, I got up, never did that before, so all in all, a positive. We then head back, start the eating process. We don't get food off the grill till after 10, but I had been supplementing with beer so I wasn't too hungry. Eating commenced. Eating ended. Steaks and shrimp, good. Then the shitshow. People jumping off the dock. People flipping of the deck. People falling down the teeny hill off the porch. People taking straight shots of JD. People drinking out of measuring cups. Whataburger at 4, and done. If you will notice, the details were a lot clearer earlier in the day. But the night is done to the best of my ability. All I know is my Sunday night I could barely walk I was so sore. I have bruises all over my legs and arms. Cuts down my left leg. And knots down my shin that make it look like Tanya Harding had a go at me.

Jealous?