So yesterday, I told my husband (with a hearty amount of sincerity) that I wanted to go live in a yurt. A yurt with a roof garden. HA!
We had just endured the most humorless wireless phone salesperson in all of the whole wide world for about 20 minutes of just the worst mind-melitng script of red-taped-the-COMPANY-knows-best BULLSHITTEDNESS. The smarmy-ness could have greased the engine of my 2001 Chevy Tahoe. My husband left first because the baby was tearing apart ACCESSORIES for the CELLPHONES and gettin' a bit crunky from the aforementioned humorless episode that just kept going on and on and on and on and on..... and on. I finished the transaction alone. This may have not been the best idea.
I didn't say anything mean. I mean I didn't use mean words. You know what I mean? (If you've been paying attention, obviously my previous post has been blown to bits).
I walked out of that store so fucking annoyed and Yurt loving. Yurt yearning. Instead, I got a new data plan.