cholestrow. escrow. scrow.

So, I dunno about escrow and whatever it may be, but we're pretty much done with that now. We signed a bunch of papers that I had already seen and signed before but this time they were the final, final papers. (These won't be processed until after Christmas though since everyone has Christmas off.)

The signing thing - it was pretty boring. I got off work on Friday and then we drove to this title company and sign papers. Since I had spent a few hours a couple of weekends ago looking through these papers already, I was all ready to sign. But this title person, she was like here let me explain every document you are signing in nauseating detail. Josh was all into it, hanging on every word it seemed, and I was like about to fall on the floor from exhaustion from all of the overtime this week, and just pure boredom of her explaining already boring forms. I kept eyeing the kid's toys in the corner, sitting in a bin, they looked so much more appealing.

By the fourth paper I was already like, Just Give Me The Freaking Papers So I Can Sign. Them. Please. NOW. I mean, first of all, we're getting a VA loan, which means the government can do whatever well they please in the paperwork, including 5 different forms which state that each of the forms we are signing can be signed, and that you must sign them with this name, but the other form with that name, and that those names are the same, and that you are a veteran. And this other form, that form is to also state you are a veteran, and that you are a spouse of a veteran, and this form here, that just states that you signed your name as a veteran and verifies the fact of the form's existence. And this form here, initial here, here and here to verify that you read the other form in which that form stated you had indeed signed the other, other form.

When she finally said, "and this it the last form..." I was all rude and grabby and signed it really fast. I'm suchajerk.

Afterwards it was time to drive back for my work's glitzy Christmaskuh party. It was everything I dreamed a rich 'ol Christmaskuh party to be. Lavish shpread of elegant foods, including stuffed chicken and prime rib and salad bowls that were bigger than my dining room table, okay, well, bigger than my dining room. Decorated ballroom set inside a casino/hotel with complimentary coupons to get guests started on slot machines. A live, hip band playing covers from the 70s-now including "Ice, Ice Baby" and "Let's Get it On" and crazy lights hitting the dance floor. (Heathens! Rock and Roll and dancing!) Festive cloth napkins were in everyone's laps already when we arrived, and most of my co-workers were starting on their second glass of wine, or martini, or mojito.

I think there must have been about 200 people there. It started off with dinner, then the CEOs and CFOs and UFOs or whoever talking about how great whatever and whoever was, I forget. Or maybe I wasn't paying attention. Then the band played and we all danced the night away. Or at least I did. Josh was brave enough to join me.

Although it was a lot more than I was used to, it was neat to see a company give something like this for their employees - I've never seen an affair like that put on anywhere else I have worked before. And everyone remained somewhat sober, or tastefully drunk if they indeed were.

So, my co-workers are fun, now I know. They're pretty awesome. And the bosses? Well hello, we got free chocolates and Christmas bonuses! They are awesome, too.

Hurray for grown-up jobs.