Just when you thought it was safe to read Melina's blog...

The gods are not smiling upon me these days. As if it wasn't bad enough to be suffering from a case of unrequited lust, plus having to flog the house, I now have another problem.

I am dying to play the new Grand Theft Auto IV game but I don't have a Playstation 3, and don't have enough money to buy one.

I can't even find enough dosh to buy an Xbox 360, but I don't want one anyway as all my other games are Playstation 2 format. And the acne-riddled clerks at Game Stop and Best Buy won't even put GTA IV on the PS3 display model.

Life is pretty forking unfair, especially for cranky 45-year olds who cannot waste hours in front of their televisions pretending to kill, steal and otherwise commit felonious acts. Sigh.

The last days of chez Melina

I recently arranged to take a week off to sort out the house with a view to selling it. So beginning next Monday I'll be in a painting/cleaning frenzy.

Usually, when one makes a decision about a difficult or complex situation, it's a relief. But after spending the morning cleaning, I've realized that I'm already viciously depressed about the idea of selling the place. I'm already wondering how I'll make it through next week. I'll probably end up spending half the time under the bed, eating Xanax with the dust bunnies. I can only hope that one or more of my friends drop by to keep me company (and call 911 if need be).

Before I began shopping for the house, I was not terribly committed to The American Dream of Home Ownership. Truth is, I had just finished doing my taxes and realized I needed a write-off. The choice was "buy a home or have a kid".

But after I began looking at the bungalows in the area, and realized I could actually buy one, I got pretty enthused. And I knew I wanted this house the minute I walked into it.

You see, I had such plans for chez Melina. Although the interior initially looked like a cross between That 70s Show and a Victorian brothel - the former owner had stuffed it with antiques, but left the shag carpet and awful green walls - I could see through all of that. I could imagine what it could be after I ripped out the carpets (the original red oak floors were underneath) and painted over the horrible green walls. I was going to make it look like a classic California bungalow straight out of Bungalow Heaven. I started buying American Bungalow magazine at the Whole Foods. But six months after I bought it, my high-paying job went away, and it was all I could do to keep up the payments. And then I just never got back into renovating mode.

Over the past couple of weeks, the thought of selling the house had evolved into a sense of relief. After the deal was done, I'd have some money left over at the end of the month again. I would be able to afford to travel; something I really miss. I could be independent again. I kept telling myself it was only a house, and there were other, cheaper places to live that would suit me just as well. But today, the sense of relief is gone.

I'm not suggesting I am not the one to blame for the current need to sell. I wish I'd had managed better over the past seven years. But even the most unworkable dreams are painful when they die.

Shower in the forecast so I'm calling in sick

This endless shower of baby showers at work is finally beginning to annoy me. They happen too often for my taste. There's one on my calendar for tomorrow.

Not only do I have to snoop through stacks of pastel fabric when buying a gift, I have to sit around for two hours and listen to usually sane women make infantile noises each time the expectant mother opens a gift. And now that I'm on this diet, I can't even eat any cake.

Perhaps I'm just annoyed that it'll never be my turn, but I'm thinking of buying one of these baby t-shirts from here for the upcoming shower. Maybe the shirt with the design shown just below. Or would that just be too mean?