Not gonna write about house-hunting, or moving, or commuting, or being a nurse...

 HA HA HA HA HA, yeah right.

Do you ever have those days where you just want to hit your head against a brick wall repeatedly?  Oooops, I better be careful what I say, lest someone misconstrue that as a statement of self-harm ideation.  I don't really want to hit my head against a brick wall.  I have no plans or desire to hit my head, or anyone else's head, against a brick wall, or any wall.  Not one time or repeated times, or any time at all.  

Sometimes it's just frustrating, though, and disheartening to the point where you want to lie your head down on the nearest surface, like the desk in front of you which is probably about as comfortable as a brick wall (maybe less scratchy) and close your eyes and just check out for a while.  

"It" being, you know, just everything.  Honestly, it could be anything.  Anything you're working on at the moment, whether you're trying to win a Nobel prize or just trying to make it through the next five minutes of your life without having a breakdown.  We all like it when things go the way we want them to, and when they don't, it gets us down.  But then we get back up again, because they're never gonna keep us down.  We get knocked down, but we get up again; they're never gonna keep us down.  I said we get knocked down, but we get up again! They're never gonna keep us down.  We get knocked down, and we get up again, because they're never gonna keep us down.

Hold on, then...I just heard some thumping in my tub...😝

As you were.

If life is a highway (or Are you gonna go my way?)

Do all drivers have a favorite road, or is that another quirk I've taken for granted most of my life because I forget that not all people are car people?

I guess this is a pretty open-ended question.  The inspiration behind it came during my new drive to work, which may come as a surprise.  Some people actually do think about driving while they're driving!  What a concept. 

At any rate, My old drive to work was pretty straight-forward.  (Lame driving pun not intended!) That's the beauty of the interstate, isn't it?  Or should I say, the beauty of living 3 miles north of the interstate, and working about one mile south of the same interstate.  Sure, there were times when said interstate was backed up for one reason or another and I'd have to find an alternate route, but luckily I'm familiar enough with the city side streets (and thanks in part to GPS and map apps) that it wasn't a problem to exit early and bypass the obstruction.  I think there were only two times in five years I needed to find other ways to cross the St. Croix River, though, which was a bit more of an issue because the next nearest bridge is a bit out of the way.  Not un-doable, though.  Not by a long shot.

My new drive just has too many options.  I'm not great at making decisions when there are too many options and all the time in the world to make them.  I still get to take the interstate to work, but then I have to decide which highway I want to branch off to and when.  I've tried both of the major options this week and they're both about the same, time-wise, but one feels faster and less stressful.  I was actually surprised at the "less stressful" part, because it was the option I thought I would not like.

And that got me thinking about how we have favorite roads, and why.  For example, my new commute now affords me the opportunity to drive on highway 36.  For some reason, I have always enjoyed driving on highway 36.  Always. Ever since I've been driving, it's been one of my favorite roads.  I lived in the "wrong" part of town (hahaha!) to actually use it on a regular basis, but I always liked driving it, and I kind of still do. And I've always tended to avoid 35E, again for reasons I'm not quite clear on, except that it seems like it's always backed up.  Again, by "always" I mean for as long as I've been driving, which is about 30 years, and I grew up in the cities and learned to drive in the cities, so it really honestly has been that long.  Ditto for 694.  I don't know, I'm just surprised because, in my head, I thought I would like the 94 to 694 to 36 commute best, because 694 and 36 are only two lanes and therefore would be...I'm not sure what adjective I'm looking for here.  Un-super-speedway-like?  But, after trying the 94 to 35E to 36 route, I found I was actually much more comfortable and calm and happier on the latter route.  I felt safer because 35E had more lanes.  I guess a lifetime of NASCAR watching has rubbed off on me: the same amount of cars going the same speeds in a larger space is generally going to be safer because they have more room to pass.  When they get all bunched up, like they do on the 2-lane highways where everyone is still trying to do 75 even though the speed limit is CLEARLY MARKED as 60, it's much more frustrating and worrisome because the cars get packed together like sardines and I'm always thinking ahead to wonder what this drive will be like when it's icy and snowy.  

Yes siree, some of us certainly do think about driving while we're driving.

😊

We're in the unique position right now of having two houses in which we are interested.  Talk about opening a window when He closes a door, eh?!  And amazingly, as of a few minutes ago when I checked the MLS website, both were still Active (meaning available and not Pending or Contingent, meaning that the sellers have accepted offers on them).  We have already looked at one of them, and are looking at the second one tonight.  Based on what we've seen so far on the online listings, it's already a tough call.  One seems to have the House advantage, the other has the Land and Outbuildings advantage.  They're the same price, and their Locations are relatively similar as well (not that they're in the same area, actually they're in different areas, but basically equidistant from our ground zero.  I think.  We'll confirm that on Consideration #2 this evening.).  As I said, we looked at one already and the house is beautiful! It basically meets all of our criteria and does not need any work, but we have some misgivings concerns  about the land on which it sits.  Both places are one-owner homes, but the one we haven't looked at yet is a much older home -- and although the photos and the listing show that it looks to be in good condition (dated décor-wise, but that can be fixed), we know all too well that the devil is in the things that aren't pictured.  Like the mechanical room, namely the floor and whether it has water on it.  And what the carpet smells like, or what the floor feels like when you step on it.  Little things like that. 

In one week from today, we officially sell our current home to our son, almost exactly 17 years to the day that we bought it.  Crazy, isn't it?!  If you would've told me six months ago that this would be happening, I would've laughed you right out of town.  But here we are.  About to do this.  The boy is chomping at the bit to get us out of here. I wonder what it's like, taking over the house that you grew up in?  

Alright, lunch break is over.  Back to work for me!  (Working from home today.  It feels weird.  The new office is so new and awesome that I was almost kind of sad about not going in today, and then I came to my senses and remembered I don't have to spend 2 hours of my day driving, and although I love driving, I also love being home even though it's a disorganized mess right now. Limbo is fun.) TTYL!

One move down...

Well, The Office Move is done!  I can check that off of my bucket list. I've never moved an office before, even though several of my former employers have moved locations.  

Let's see...first there was Wards, when they moved from the old building in St. Paul (which was imploded in 1996, watch the YouTube video here) to the new location, which became Herberger's (I think) after Wards went out of business in around 1999ish, and I honestly lost track of what's been in that building after that.  It was a Barnes and Noble bookstore for a while, now I think it's a HealthPartners clinic...anyway, I started working at the old store in 1990, when I was 16, and I think I left in late 1995? Maybe 1996? I know I didn't work there when we got married, which was in September of 1996, but I might have worked there earlier that year, although for some reason I don't think I did.  I think 1995 was my last year there.  And for those of you who didn't already know, my hubby worked there as well.  He started in the old store in 1989 (yes, we're the same age, but he started when he was 15 and I didn't start until I was 16).  And no, that's not how we met, exactly, but I'd say it is where we became friends.  We met in school -- we went to school together from 7th grade through 12th grade -- but didn't really have any classes together or hang out with the same people at school, but we did see each other a lot at work.  But that's not what I came here to write about. This time.

I don't remember when the new store opened, but I know I helped close the old store and open the new one.  Although after I graduated from high school in 1993, I was working several jobs and wasn't as super-involved with moving to the new store as I would have been if it was my sole full-time job.  

Then the humane society moved.  Twice, actually!  I started working there in late 1996.  One of the jobs I'd been working before that was as a home health aide, but I'd tweaked my back (thanks in part to having already hurt it in a car accident my senior year of high school) and decided not to pursue a career in nursing (please join me in a hearty round of laughter) so I got a part-time job doing data entry at the humane society.  The "office" I had there makes my current office space look huge, but I'll get to that later, too.  ;)  NO I'M NOT COMPLAINING!  ahem.  I worked there until the summer of 1997, when I moved to Illinois to join my hubby.  You see, he still worked for Wards -- in fact, he had gone through a series of promotions and was something like a Director of . . . sorry, hubby, I don't remember what your fancy title was, but he had been offered a job at the then-new warehouse in a Chicago suburb, right about the time we found out we were expecting a baby that would end up being our first and only successful pregnancy and the apple of my eye whom most you now know as Stone :D.  But that's not what I came here to write about, either; I just felt I had to explain why I left a job I loved dearly to move to freaking Illinois of all places.  And then a year later, Peder finally quit Wards and we moved back to Minnesota anyway with a 6-month-old baby and basically started all over again.

Well, he started all over again.  I got my old job at the humane society back (not the first amazing coincidence in my life, but definitely one that still gives me goosebumps!!) and so went back in the summer of 1998, but by that time the department I worked in had moved to a mobile office unit next to the main building.  So not a full-fledged across-town move, but still a move.  (Oh, and I also feel like it's worth mentioning that I wasn't just a part-time data entry person by this point, or really for the majority of my time there. I did start as a PT data entry person, but very shortly increased to FT and my title changed to Development Assistant. The humane society is now a huge organization here, having become a conglomerate of five local shelters, but back then it was one facility with a very small business office and fundraising department, so I basically entered all of the direct mail donations and helped with fundraising campaigns, and helped in other business office areas as needed.  To this day, it makes my heart happy seeing and hearing about how much they've grown, thinking about how small they used to be!)  Speaking of the merge, though -- shortly before I left the second and last time in 2000, the humane society I worked for had just merged with one of the other humane societies in the area, and our department was moved out of the mobile office unit (which we called The Palace because it was actually a double wide mobile trailer with no working restroom) and to a suburb about 10 minutes away.  The reason I left had nothing to do with the move; it was because we had since decided that it wasn't worth me working FT just to pay for daycare and our health insurance (even though my mom was providing daycare services for me, so I was getting a great deal -- but still, even working FT, my check covered insurance and family-discounted daycare and maybe half a tank of gas for my 1989 Suburban) so we were going to sell our house, turn my mother-in-law's house into a duplex, and move in with her so I could quit my job and be a FT stay-at-home mom while my hubby went to plumbing school for 5 years.

I had to go to the new office for about 3 days.  

And then, there was the Baldwin hospital move. I started working at the Baldwin hospital in September 2009 as a CNA (certified nursing assistant) about to start my core nursing classes for nursing school.  I left there officially in July 2016 as a PRN registered nurse, which is also the same month that the Baldwin Area Medical Center officially moved from their original location on 10th St/Hwy 63 in Baldwin and into the brand new hospital closer to I-94 on the newly-created Berg-something street, behind the A&W, and changed their name to Western WI Health.  That's when I officially left; however, I worked my last shift at BAMC on December 31, 2015, and a few days later started my new job that I guess I can stop calling my new job because I've been there over 5.5 years and counting now... 😌  

And it certainly has been a cluster these last few weeks.  Especially Friday.  Especially if you're like me, and like working in a clean, organized environment with as few extraneous random people invading your space as possible.  Which isn't possible when you and everyone else in the office is packing everything up and movers are coming in to take everything away and move it to the new office.  By the time I left on Friday afternoon, my office was no longer my safe haven; it was horrible.  There were yellow packing boxes everywhere, and bookshelves, and moving men wrapping said bookshelves and pushing stacks of yellow boxes, and so many people doing so many things and I was just in sensory overload...yuck.  I left without even taking pics of my old office for nostalgia's sake.  

So this is the first time I've actually been part of the move itself.  Over the past few weeks, I've been packing up my personal things -- not just because the official emails said that the moving company was only liable for moving company property, but also because I knew I was downsizing from being the sole occupant of a nice-sized office, to sharing office space and having a new space of my own that was approximately the space of a small cubicle.  

I still over-estimated the size of my new space.

So, Friday was our last day at the St. Paul office.  As I said above, I've been bringing my personal stuff (which consisted of some knick-knacks and seasonal decorations, but also some healthcare related stuff like books, OK a lot of books...) home for a few weeks.  The problem being that I'm also trying to declutter my home since we're planning on moving soon, too, and honestly the reason those books ended up at work in the first place is because I didn't want them at home anymore.  Long story short, I've got small bags full of books everywhere now -- some in the living room, some in the Nox, some in the truck.  And room for none of them at work.  And I have a strict policy against using my vehicles as storage, so they need to come out of there and, I guess, into the house.  UGH! In case you were wondering, the reason they're in small bags is because books are heavy and small bags of them are easier to transport than big bags of them. So, there.

Saturday morning I made my first trip inside the new clinic.  I'd driven past it a few times before, but Saturday I was armed with my all-access badge and went in with the intentions of unpacking and setting up my office area so I don't have to do it on Monday morning.  And before you call me an overachiever, I'm not -- I have clinic Monday morning, so I literally won't have time to unpack on Monday when everyone else is unpacking.  I am already nervous about Monday morning clinic because we'll be in a new place, I am NOT going to add to my stress by not knowing where any of my supplies are!  

My first impressions? Wow.  It definitely feels like a new workplace.  It's all bright and clean and new and strange,. Familiar things are in different places.  Based on the blueprints we were shown on the layouts of our offices, I chose my desk spot because it was in the corner, away from the door, and didn't have another desk next to it; so imagine my surprise when I got there and found my office set up completely backward from the blueprint I had seen.  That is, the number for the desk I had carefully and thoughtfully selected was assigned to the desk closest to the door with another desk next to it.  I took a deep breath, and then another one, and then said "oh, well!" and commenced unpacking.  What difference does it really make?!  The computers were already hooked up and everything.  I'm an introvert who isn't used to sharing an office. I'm also flexible and adaptable in the workplace.  ;)

So, with that move basically done on my part -- just have to figure out what to do with the crap that either won't fit in the new space, or doesn't have an obvious new space to fit in yet (mostly decorations and comfort items), and get used to where supplies are now kept, and figure out the exam room situation and everything else that makes it feel like I've started a new job -- maybe the Home Moving gods will smile upon us sometime soon! UGH.

I mean, the good news is that we haven't had any showings cancelled recently due to the sellers accepting another offer while we were waiting for our showing appointment.  Hopefully that curse is broken.  The last few showings have actually happened on the first day that the properties in question went active on the MLS (not sure if that's correct terminology, I'm basing this on what I've picked up from our realtor and what I've seen used in online listings).  Our curse now, and believe me that curse is the key word here (but as a verb rather than a noun) is that the game has changed.  Or we expected it to be very different.  It's "only" been 17 years since we bought a house, but we both thought the game would be pretty much the same.  I don't know if this is a recent change, or what, but it's taken some adjusting, and I think we finally get the new rules.

Apparently now, instead of the seller setting the asking price at more than what they want and leaving room to bargain with the hopeful buyers in their favor (so the buyers feel like they're getting a deal, lol), the thing now is to set the asking price for less than what they want and get a bidding war going.  Which is a problem, because we're not into bidding wars.  It actually kind of pisses me off, because I feel like - if you want xyz for what you're selling, list it for xyz or even xyz+100 and be willing to come down a bit.  Don't list it for xyz and then ignore the first offer you get for xyz because you're going to hold out and see if anyone offers you more.

Because that's what happened this week.  We found a place we liked -- it almost met the Trifecta of Happiness, it didn't quite have the outbuildings we needed but we liked it so much we decided we could make it work, so the same night that we looked at it, we texted our realtor and asked him to put in an offer for the full asking price.  We debated over whether to put our offer in right away or not, knowing that there were lots of other showings going on as well, and ultimately felt that being the first offer in would be to our advantage.  

We were wrong!  And that makes me mad.  So mad that I wouldn't even want that place anymore.  We made a good, honest offer of the asking price, and didn't get any personal response.  Not even a decline of our offer.  We were just ignored, and the seller(s) announced that they were expecting multiple offers and wanted all interested parties to submit their best offers by Saturday at some specific time for consideration.  Like I said -- I was (still am) just angry, disheartened, and mad about being flat-out ignored and disrespected for offering WHAT THEY WERE ASKING that we didn't even ask our realtor to re-submit our offer (which was only valid, I think, until Friday night).  Seriously!  That WAS my best offer and it was exactly what you asked for, and if that's not what you wanted in the first place then forget it. I'm out. And it's not just the principle, either, it's the money.  No matter what the comps and the appraisals say, any material item is still only worth what someone will pay for it -- and for us, that place was not worth paying more than asking price.  If it's worth more than that to someone else, more power to them.  God has something better planned for us.

At least we're getting closer.  One of these times, we're bound to find the window He's opened for us!

On that note, I'm signing off.  I have to get to bed early tonight.  I timed my new drive to work on Saturday (well, one possible route -- there are now many, many possible options) and it will take me about 10 minutes longer than usual.  However, the walk from my parking spot to the building is significantly less now (from 3 blocks to, um, across a parking lot) so it will probably even out.  My point being, I don't have spare time in the morning anymore.  

TTYL!

If I had patience, I'd work in healthcare!

Wokka wokka wokka!

Well...we didn't get the house that I was blabbering about in my last blog posts. And you know what?  I'm okay with that.  I mean, I literally have to be, because it's not something I can change anyway, right?  

I'd be lying if I didn't say I wasn't beside myself with impatience yesterday.  Not knowing was very difficult.  For the most part, I was prepared to hear that we wouldn't get it, although a small part of me was hoping that we'd be chosen by some miracle.  It was kind of like the whole adoption thing again, oddly enough.  

But the house was beautiful!  It was almost too nice. I mean, I feel like I would've been living in someone else's house all the time.  It had beautiful built-in custom cabinets, and as my hubby said, everything was top of the line when it was built 22 years ago.  It was more than twice the size of our current house, and it was big and roomy but felt cozy and comfortable.  Oh, well.  I was sad for about 10 minutes.  I had tears in my eyes when I texted my friend that I felt like it was too nice for us, anyway.  (Of course she quickly corrected me and I know that's not actually the truth, but I felt like I had to say it and cry for a few minutes and get it out of my system. Done!)

It's so odd, though, isn't it?  How things work out.  How God works.  Y'all know I'm Christian and spiritual like that, so deal with it.  :D  When God closes a door, He opens a window.  I've been reminding myself that when God says "no" to what we think the plan should be, it's because He has something better planned.  And I tell you, after seeing that house, I was like -- I don't know how there could be anything better than this! We've looked at so many houses this summer, this last one was by far the nicest house we've seen. Like, we wouldn't have had to do ANY work to it, just move in and sit back and enjoy not having to do any home projects for a while.  I can't even imagine what that's like.  

But, just when you think there's no other option, God taps you on the shoulder and reminds you that He's in control.  Not my will, but His.  Always, always, always.  If that ain't the story of my life, I don't know what is...

lim·bo /ˈlimbō/

From the world according to Wikipedia:

In Catholic theology, Limbo (Latin limbus, edge or boundary, referring to the edge of Hell) is the viewpoint concerning the afterlife condition of those who die in original sin without being assigned to the Hell of the Damned.

From the world according to me, employing both poetic license and selective usage after reading the above: Yes, I definitely feel like I'm in the Hell of the Damned.

Our offer has been submitted.  The sellers are going to review all offers tomorrow after 9am.  I have so many questions...

* What does "after 9am" mean, exactly? Does that mean 9:01am, or noon, or Tuesday?

* How many other offers are there? I know there is at least one, put in before ours.  How many other offers could possibly have gone in after ours?  The property showed up on one of the real estate sites as a "hot property"; why? Is that because a lot of people have clicked on their link (and if so, how many of those were me?!)?  If each showing takes one hour, and they had non-stop showings all day Saturday and today, and every showing resulted in an offer, how many possible offers are we talking about?!

* I mean, it's probably unlikely that they had non-stop showings all day Saturday and today, right? And that every single showing resulted in an offer.  Surely, not every one who looked at it thought it would be the ideal place for them.  

* Why are the sellers going to wait until tomorrow at 9am? Why wouldn't they look tonight? There probably aren't any more showings tonight.  I'd want to get a head start on that. They're probably as eager to sell the place as any potential buyers are to buy it.  

* What if they don't accept our offer? Would they counter it, or just flat-out refuse it?

* What if they DO accept our offer??

* What if they accept none of the offers?

I feel like Schroedinger's Cat right now.  Our decision has been made, the offer is put out there, there is nothing to do but wait. And pray.  I'm not praying that we get accepted, I'm praying that God's will is done and that He gives me the strength to accept His will.  Mostly the latter ;).  I'm praying that He helps me stay calm and realize that if it doesn't work out according to our plan, it's because He has a reason and a better plan in store for us.  Not my will, but His.  

But it is so difficult to not think about or talk about things like, how should we do this or that?  Where should we put this? What should we put there?  Things like that have been on the tip of my tongue all day, but I won't let myself say them because I don't know if the offer is accepted or not.  Every now and then, pre-planning thoughts about packing and preparing for moving come up -- but I don't know what to do with those plans yet.  We're in limbo.  In a few weeks, we'll close on our current house and we may or may not have an idea where we'll be living next.  

I am not a patient person.  Read the first part of this blog from way back when if you don't believe me.

So I am trying my best not to think about the fact that our future is currently relying on some very nice people I don't even know personally (even though I've looked carefully at nearly every corner of their home) to decide whether or not they like the conditions which we set forth and offered to them in exchange for the purchase of their home.  NO BIG DEAL, RIGHT?!?!

Uggggggggg hashtag adulting is hard dot com.

I'm going to bed. TTYL!

You're not the only one with mixed emotions...

Murphy's Law typically states, "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong."  

Muphry's Law, in comparison, tells us that "If you write anything criticizing editing or proofreading, there will be a fault of some kind in what you have written."

Other proven yet relatively insignificant facts: the day we leave to go out of town, a property will come up for sale that meets our criteria and we will miss out on it because we will be out of town. This happened last month when we went to the Black Hills, and also last week when we went to Memphis.,

Oh, well.  The hubby and I both have a strong conviction that if it doesn't happen, it wasn't meant to be.  In regards to lots of things, but I'm primarily speaking about the house-hunting thing here.  So when we get that call (figuratively speaking) two hours before our scheduled appointment, letting us know the showing has been cancelled because the sellers accepted another offer, that means it wasn't meant to be. We don't know why, but it wasn't.  Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die.

We looked at two houses this week.  One of them was, well, it looked better online than it did in person.  Although it was mighty interesting in person as well.  I've learned something about myself on this house search -- I want to live in an interesting house.  I discovered this when I was trying to describe to a friend why I wasn't enthused about a particular house that looked good "on paper" but I just wasn't really excited about the possibility of making an offer on -- it was just a boring house.  I don't want to live in a boring house for the rest of my life.  Or ever.  

I think that's my problem with apartments, too.  I've only lived in one apartment in my life (not counting the one we lived in temporarily in Illinois when I was pregnant with Stone, because Peder needed a place to live while working and house-hunting and I still lived and worked in St. Paul) and the layout was exactly the same as every other apartment in the building. And it was boring. You just can't get creative with three rooms.  Here's the living room, here's the kitchen/dining room, here's the bedroom.  Wow! So exciting.  But I knew I wouldn't be living there forever and it was only $385 per month (which was still a good portion of my income back in 1994...) so, whatever. I like houses with character.

The first house we looked at this week definitely had character. It definitely needed some interior updating (of the decorating type) but for most of the showing we were like -- OK, we could work with this.  Then we got to the basement. Not the interesting finished basement with the wood paneling and brick fireplace that had a Very Brady feel, but the cave basement like the one we have.  It was a lot like our current basement. In fact, it was a lot like our current basement was during the Flood of 2020.  (Side note: we have since installed a sump pump in our basement and it has remained dry, never mind the fact that we are in a drought...) OK, slight exaggeration.  But it did have a nice water feature that wasn't advertised.  I was bummed, because that was a Definite No.  It was about that time I admitted to myself that I'd been ignoring the smell of mold that permeated the house.  Denial ain't just a river!

But the second house we looked at...I don't want to say much about it yet because we're making an offer on it and I don't want to jinx anything.  Because even though I do believe in faith and destiny, I'm also still very superstitious about certain things.  And I also tend to get my hopes up very easily and even though I'm telling myself right now that I'll be alright if this doesn't go through, I know I'll be bummed.  Anyway...keep your fingers crossed for us if you would, please, okay?  At one point in my life I would've been like, oh my gosh I am going to just DIE if we don't get this house!! But right now I'm like, I would love to get this house and I really hope we get it but if we don't...we'll keep looking.  I won't die. Life will go on.  

Fingers. Crossed.  

There is at least one other offer on it already. The sellers are reviewing the offers on Monday morning.  

Anyway, so we went to Memphis last week. Graceland was even more amazing than I thought it would be!  We also went to Tupelo, which is where Elvis was born, and saw his birthplace. As in the actual home where he was born.  But if you're FB friends with me, you've seen all the pics already -- or you have access to the pics, anyway.  I have to say, one of the coolest things EVER for me was when we were touring Sun Studios (where Elvis got his start, but also the site of so many other cool things) in the very same recording studio where Elvis recorded "That's Alright," and the tour guide played the actual song...y'all, I got goosebumps and watery eyes.  It was the most incredible experience.  To be in the very same room where that song was recorded, and to be listening to it... I was so geeked out after that!  OK, I was geeked out the day before that when we toured Graceland, because we had the VIP tour so we got to see his cars and motorcycles and all kinds of cool stuff.  We were there for about six hours.  

Alright, I just got word that our realtor sent some papers over for us to look at and approve. AAAHHHHH!  Here we go on a ride I thought I'd never be taking again. Wish us luck!