Holy shit! My apartment is on Fire!

Last night I was sitting in my room minding my own business when Jes knocked on my door. "Do you smell that?" she asked me before both of us wandered around the living room sniffing, out in the hallways sniffing and finally towards her room.
She went in her room to check on the baby and opened up her closet door, then her bathroom door and smoke poured out.
She moved things away from the heater thinking her bathmat had caught fire but when everything was ok she looked at me, "Fire. We gotta get out."

I Scooped up the the baby, his blanket and stopped in my room to get my Cell phone, Jacket and purse. I ran outside, wrapping the baby in his blanket and my coat. Dressed in basketball shorts, t-shirt and barefoot I wondered just how bad it was going to get.

Jes ran back in 2-3 times to get the diaper bag, cigarettes for both of us and most importantly- shoes for me. We stood there, watching the fire trucks arrive; wondering if we were going to have anything at the end of the night.

It took 6 hours before we were able to get to our parent's houses. 6 hours of watching them tromp around our apartment. 6 hours of tears, laughter and hugs. They had knocked her window out, and cut holes in our ceiling. (We have skylights now.) After it was all over they let us inside to get some things and even though there was no power I could see how damaged and destroyed everything was.

My belongings are pretty much fine since my bedroom was in the back of the building. Jes' bathroom and closet were right next to the fire. Neither of us have Bathrooms at the moment, her closet was gutted and you can see the studs of the building.

I was lucky, and because of that we can rebuild. We can buy new things. What is important is everyone got out safe, even our fish; Cookie. I spent the night at my moms house and even after a large captain and diet (Yes I saved that from the apartment) I still couldn't stop shaking.

It's sunk in a bit more today, but it probably wont be horrifying until I go back there to gather more of my things.

Oh yeah. It was a GREAT Monday.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!

Today is the day I drive to the city and find out if I get the visa to go to England this summer. I'm absolutely terrified. Which may be the reason I didn't sleep. That and the four shots of espresso I had all day. *cough*

So I have had no sleep, just finished breakfast, am showered and dressed. Even blow dried my hair. (I said after today on Facebook, I'd give up vanity. SORRY.) and everything is together. I have my bank statements, letter from work, lease is in the car, Letter stating I'm loaded is in the purse and more bank statements.

I have 40 minutes till I have to leave. This is a problem. I don't like being late. I am never late because shit like this happens. I wake up early so I have enough time, end up with too much time and then I sit there like a moron twiddling my thumbs and blogging like a tard monkey about nothing just to pass the time and keep my mind off whatever it is I'm waiting for.

And in this case, its my uncertain future.

See, this visa is important. Not as important as the marriage one we're filling out come April, but still important because if I can't get it then I can't go to England. Which means I can't meet his grandma, or his aunt. I can't get to know his family instead of going, "Oh Hay! I'm marrying this member of your family and you have very little idea as too who I am." Goodie!

Fuck. Me.

This is scary as hell. How unfair would be on him if I get denied and I can't flippin' go this summer? I better get it, I blow dried my hair for this shit.

If we get married and every time he wants to see his family he has to go alone, and then later take the kids alone... Well It would suck balls, thats what it would do.
And maybe, just maybe, slowly destroy our marriage because I'm such a fucking retard I can't even travel properly with out getting deported for wanting to not be homeless.

Fucking hell. I'm scared shitless right now. If I was not wearing clean pants, I'd probably drop a load on the couch just to prove a fucking point.
This is why I don't admit my emotions. This is why I don't try new things. I don't change what I eat, read or even wear. Why? Because I end up a raving lunatic who has no idea what she is saying or doing she's closing her eyes and jumping head first hoping and maybe a little praying as well, that it goes the way that would suit everyone best.

I considered baking a cake, but I didn't want to bribe them with baked goods and be refused because they can't accept bribes. It'd be a total waste of cake.
God I'm loonier than the canadian currancy.
Fuck.