Crazy
My wife told me about this conversation over dinner the other night:
My wife was telling one of her co-workers about the Devil Queen Experience, i.e. three plus years in our own private hell.
Co-worker: “So, did you know anything about plumbing, or wiring, or houses in general when you decided you’d move this house and fix it up?
Wife: “Nope. We didn’t know anything.”
Co-worker: “Did you just figure that you’d get a book and read how to do it or what?”
Wife: “Yeah, pretty much.”
Co-worker: “You’re crazy.”
Wife: “Well, if you put it that way, it does sound crazy, doesn’t it?”
My wife was telling one of her co-workers about the Devil Queen Experience, i.e. three plus years in our own private hell.
Co-worker: “So, did you know anything about plumbing, or wiring, or houses in general when you decided you’d move this house and fix it up?
Wife: “Nope. We didn’t know anything.”
Co-worker: “Did you just figure that you’d get a book and read how to do it or what?”
Wife: “Yeah, pretty much.”
Co-worker: “You’re crazy.”
Wife: “Well, if you put it that way, it does sound crazy, doesn’t it?”
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