Okay, ya'll. We can officially forgive my loan officer who waved the late fee and apologized for the inconvenience as soon as my husband went to see him.
Also, he informed my husband that I sounded a little...um...pissed in the message I left. That might be true. But in my defense? I was pissed. No surprises there.
But kudos to his secretary who told my husband she would also have been a little stabby. And now is where we sing "I en-joy be-ing a girl!"
But on to the highlight of my day.
I got to discuss necrophilia with two classes of high school juniors.
I know you're jealous of my awesome job. After all, who WOULDN'T want to discuss the crazy/hot scale and necrophilia in the classroom?
Honestly, folks? We only have William Faulkner to blame. He can't help his Southern Gothic goodness. Of course, if you don't follow, feel free to pick up "A Rose for Emily." Then, our discussion of the legalities of necrophilia will totally make sense.
And maybe you'll want to be a teacher, too.