I Don't Know How Much Longer I Can Keep Complaining!

Well, I've had the weekend from hell.

Recently I decided the time has come to move house. Call me precious, but I've reached the stage in my life where I want a house that doesn't threaten to fall over every time I sneeze. So last week I put in an application for a place that's just perfect; affordable, quiet leafy street yet close to where things are happening, and best of all, only 50 metres from Boof and Funky's house! (For some reason, they're not so keen). But I haven't heard back from the real estate agent yet, and the place was advertised again on Saturday. *Sigh* Back to the search...

Then there was the football on Saturday night. Yikes. Watching the Knights get steam rolled 50-6 by the Broncos, the second-worst defeat in finals history, was a truly horrible experience. It was like an eighty-minute, slow-motion car crash you just couldn't stop looking at. All the commentators remarked how sorry they felt for the players. The players? It's all right for them, they can get a transfer to North Queensland and the next time we'll see them is when they're running at the Knights try line next season. What about us poor saps who are stuck here? There's not a lot to get excited about in Newcastle...

To top it all off...I didn't win the $22 million lotto! After I picked up a lucky coin, my horoscope predicted a win, and I even bought a ticket! Everyone is going to have to wait a little longer for the cars I've promised.

So, I ran a big, fat 0 for 3 on the weekend. And it wasn't quite over yet. This morning I got up - very tired, as Xander has taken to sitting under my bed at 4am and clawing at the mattress through the slats, which is as annoying as it sounds and can't be good for the mattress - to see that Manchester United had lost to Arsenal overnight.

Nevermind. We all need times like this to make us appreciate the good things. Next weekend will be better.