Side Note:

I just got a call from my mom, and her opening line was, "Well it appears you're not alone in fuck-over-land anymore."

You see, my mom just got a call from Wells Fargo informing her that there has not been a payment made on Christie's car loan (which happens to be in my mom's name) in the last two months.

Ain't she great? She's burning bridges all across the state of Florida, and when her pissy ass is all alone, and moaning for help, I don't know who she thinks is going to step up to the plate after she's fucked us all sideways.

And in my naturally smartass way, I told my mom that if I have to choose between my car and my townhouse, I'm going to have to go with the car because I'll be needing a way to get to work, and you certainly can't drive the townhouse. Anyhow, if my address changes to the corner of Coral Ridge and nowhere, I'll certainly let you know. Oh come on now, laugh, it was funny. Sorta.

Ah, ain't life grand.

And this, ladies and gents, is a crash course in "How to fuck up Aimee's good mood in zero to sixty seconds".