Missed

I might be getting a cold.
I was pretty busy yesterday in the office. The company is doing an audit of the files at all of it's Salvation Army properties. They requested certain information from five of the tenant files. The problem is that half of that information wasn't in the files. I spent most of the day seeking out tenants and getting them to sign forms that should have been signed five years ago. The most interesting thing I discovered is that there isn't a signed copy of Mike's lease in his file. Now, I suppose this isn't a big deal now, but were someone to come in and look at our files, this would be epically huge. I need to find Mike on Monday and get that stuff fixed.
I threw up a tree-stand last night.
When I showed up at the in-laws', Anna's mother greeted me with, "What do you think of my black eye?" It's pretty awesome actually. I believe she got it in a fist fight with some terrorists.
Anna and I had a hot date last night.
I decided it would make more sense to spend the night at the in-laws', instead of getting up even earlier to drive out there this morning to go hunting.
I missed.
I missed.
I missed.
I'm so absolutely frustrated with myself. I can't believe I missed.
This is going to eat at me until I get another shot.
It was really windy all morning. This wasn't the worst thing in the world since it covered up the sound of my sniffling, but it wasn't exactly blowing in an ideal direction.
Anna went riding with her parents this afternoon. She rode Ishmo (I have no idea how to spell this horse's name). Apparently, they got along famously. She's a cowgirl. Did I mention that she looks cute in her boots?
Anna and I agreed to do children's church in the morning. I think we'll do something on the Fruits of the Spirit. That'll teach those little devils how to behave.
Howie and Chief are sleeping on the futon.
I keep swallowing snot balls.
One of the things missing from everyone's tenant files was a copy of their Social Security card. I made me feel funny to ask people to make copies of their Social Security cards. It makes me feel funny that I have a job that allows me access to that sort of information. I guess this is why it was so important to not give this job to someone with notoriously sticky fingers.
I'm kind of thirsty.
People who don't read this blog: Everybody
No one reads this blog. Why? Because all I write about is random silliness, such as what color underwear I'm wearing and whether or not I need to shower. Those of you who do read this blog, you should seriously re-evaluate your lives. Couldn't your time be better spent elsewhere? (Don't worry. I'm just bitter because I missed that friggin' deer. This blog really does make you smarter.)