First, I read the New York Times headlines in my inbox and learned that Jam Master Jay of Run-DMC was shot in the head last night in a recording studio in Queens.

Then Steve came home unexpectedly. I thought maybe it was too cold to paint outdoors at work. No. He got fired. His boss blew up at him about a misunderstanding about how many hours Steve was going to get during the winter months. Said he felt manipulated, freaked out and fired my sweet husband. I have an evil prayer that cancer is eating away at the man this very moment, and it probably is, even without me wishing it. I feel terrible for Steve.

We sat around, staring at the walls, saying we were glad we had a tennant for the new house. We had lunch and played with Aidan in a daze.

Then the phone rang and our mortgage broker told us that the house we are supposed to buy in less than two weeks appraised at more than $40,000 under what we agreed to pay for it. Unless we can find another appraiser that has a different opinion about it, no house.

Ugh.