Me, that's me. I am the only adult in the room because I am the only human being in the house. If things are to be done, I get to do them.
Today I ordered and paid for the Affidavit of Survivorship forms and guide. This is what is needed to take a person off the deed to a parcel of real estate. You cannot just take the death certificate down the the office and say, I own this plot, he is dead, fix it. Oh no. There is a form. I was intimidated at first, because the sample had stuff I didn't grasp intuitively. But I looked at our tax records on file and found what was wanted. Hey, that was not so bad. Now I have to fill out the form I downloaded, print it, and take it to the credit union and have it notarized. I think I need to take the death certificate too, but that's hardly a surprise. Next stop would be the County Recorder's Office. And then I can go cry over beignets at Pig and A Jelly Jar that I am slowly erasing Larry.
Taxes are next. I have everything but the will to do them. I can, I just do not want to begin the process. Soon, though, before April.
That leaves a will. I definitely need a new will.
Fuck, why me? Fuck cancer, fuck the uncaring universe, and fuck being a widow.
At least I got the Safeway card in my name. And the Smith's card. And I know how to get groceries delivered.
Anyone want to come thatch my lawns?
Today I ordered and paid for the Affidavit of Survivorship forms and guide. This is what is needed to take a person off the deed to a parcel of real estate. You cannot just take the death certificate down the the office and say, I own this plot, he is dead, fix it. Oh no. There is a form. I was intimidated at first, because the sample had stuff I didn't grasp intuitively. But I looked at our tax records on file and found what was wanted. Hey, that was not so bad. Now I have to fill out the form I downloaded, print it, and take it to the credit union and have it notarized. I think I need to take the death certificate too, but that's hardly a surprise. Next stop would be the County Recorder's Office. And then I can go cry over beignets at Pig and A Jelly Jar that I am slowly erasing Larry.
Taxes are next. I have everything but the will to do them. I can, I just do not want to begin the process. Soon, though, before April.
That leaves a will. I definitely need a new will.
Fuck, why me? Fuck cancer, fuck the uncaring universe, and fuck being a widow.
At least I got the Safeway card in my name. And the Smith's card. And I know how to get groceries delivered.
Anyone want to come thatch my lawns?
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