Lance, meet Heath. Heath, meet Lance. You guys have not been officially introduced. But today I think is perhaps a good day for you two to meet.
A little background on Heath …
Joe conceived Heath one January afternoon in a fit of obsessive compulsion. Heath is a composition/compulsion notebook filled with my boyfriend’s daily budget. In it he accounts for every receipt, every deposit, every bill (cell phone, electric, rent, car, fancy expensive haircuts, etc.) And over the last several months Heath has become such a thing of beauty that just opening its pages is like discovering the DaVinci code or an ancient Dead Sea scroll.
Heath is omnipresent. He is the Buddha of our budget.
If we go to CVS and buy two pints of ice cream, Heath knows. If I skimp on groceries resulting in a rash of Carrabba’s takeout, Heath knows. If the price of gas goes up today, Heath knows by tomorrow. If Heath could talk he would sound like Rain Main. “Ten minutes to Wapner. Gotta get my boxer shorts at K-Mart. Gotta keep a receipt. Definitely gotta keep a receipt.”
When Joe created this thing he scribbled 2008 Financial Ledger on the notebook’s cover and when Heath Ledger died I crossed out “Financial” and wrote “Heath” in it’s place. I’m a morose celebriholic I know. (For more on Heath see the April post Dreamy for broken down ferris wheels.)
Today was a big day for Heath. Today was like Heath’s first day of kindergarten. Joe and I got approved for two mortgages and looked at four grownup houses in our St. Pete neighborhood … but more on that later as I’m tired, ready for bed and filled with pizza. Adventures in Real Estate: Take One.