Friday, October 12, 2012

The (un)Joy of owning a home.

Today, I bought a home.  That's right, after three years of looking, 3 months of negotiations and 6 months of contract hell, I closed on an apartment.  This should be one of those happy days that you put in the books, alongside the day you met your significant other, your wedding day (divorce finalized for some), the births of your kids etc.

So why do I feel like someone climbed down my throat, scooped out my guts, blended them and shoved them all up my ass?

Thursday, May 24, 2012

At My Wits End

Today, I lost my shit.  It was bound to happen.  The combined pressure of obtaining that precious mortgage commitment letter and preparing, and submitting, the coop package, all before the dreaded deadline, has taken its toll.

Sure, the pressure itself is partly to blame but, when they sift through the wreckage that is my psyche, after years of deep psychoanalysis, were they dig deeper into the cause of my snappage, they will find that there is one person responsible for the mayhem, for the chaos, for the death and for the destruction.

And she deserves to be punished.

Monday, May 07, 2012

For Two Short Days, My Life Is Perfect

That's right, I'm was fucking happy for two full days.   For those that aren't aware, I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown of late.  The post-tax season wind down never came.  I went from the previously discussed nightmare right into the preparation of mortgage applications and coop board packages for an apartment I am trying to buy.

The process has been driving me crazy.  The brokers are morons and, unfortunately, I'm doing this alone.  My wife has offered to help, and she has been stellar in gathering whatever I ask her to gather but, at the end of the day, the pages of forms and schedules are my area of expertise so I'm doing them all.

To add to the misery, my secretary quit at the end of tax season.  Apparently, having to work until 7:30, two days in a row, was too much for her to handle.

Anyway, back to my misery.  I'm trying to run my business, gather all this paperwork, find a new secretary, and deal with being a husband and father and, honestly, it's not working for me any more.

My wife and my father both pointed out that I seemed to be on the verge of collapse, physically and mentally.  My wife asked if, perhaps, I shouldn't get myself a vallium or two.  I honestly don't know the answer to that.

That's how fucked up I am.

So, how did I have two glorious days?

All thanks to my children.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

The Flu Game, McNoogin Style

Back in 1997, Michale Jordan, played what has become known as The Flu Game.  He played 44 minutes, of a 48 minute playoff game (game 5, Utah Jazz).  He scored 38 points that night.  The amazing part is that he did this with the flu.  He was dehydrated, had a fever and could barely walk.  He was fed IV fluids during half time, had to be helped off the court and, when it ended, he collapsed from exhaustion.

Anyone who ever questioned the legend status of Michael Jordan, need look no further than this single game as proof of his insane skills and desire to win.

Well, this past week, I made the weak ass motherfucker look like a schoolgirl.

Monday, April 09, 2012

Just when you think things can't get any worse.....

They do.  It's bad enough that I'm working around the clock, subsisting on RedBull total zero, jim beach sun flower seeds and the ocaisional gnat or fly that gets ensared in the cobwebs aroung my person.  It's bad enough that my horoscope today actually made reference to me being a rat on a wheel.  It's bad enough that I'm actually suffering from stress for the first time, so much so that I think I might be developing an ulcer.  (could be the red bull and beam seeds too, I guess).

It's bad enough, right?


Friday, March 16, 2012

It Was The Best Of Times....Fuck You!

I was on cloud nine yesterday.  The first massive deadline was about to pass without a hitch, the sun was out and everything in my life seemed so right, so good. 

I was being punked.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Floogin Needs Little People

We went to contract on an apartment.  That's right, the 3 year hunt for the elusive home was completed.  That is, until the cocksucking douchebag owner decided to keep their home after agreeing on a price and having the lawyers start drawing up the paperwork.  We should have seen it coming.