I'm NOT in a good mood right now. I woke up to a text from our builder with a price quote on the counter tops I picked out on Friday and have since fallen madly deeply inseparably in love with.
Sounds like the slabs of quartz I picked out think rather highly of themselves and would rather hang out in a big warehouse next to ugly, gaudy blue granite and shit instead of coming to live at the Fahden's bomb ass house. Well FINE. Have it your way, you pretty pieces of counter. I'll just have to start the search over.
Or, um, convince Jack to sell his car.