Electricians still here, poor souls – I think they’re afraid they’ll never get out. Always some new complication. That’s my house for you.
It’s almost comical, the scene here – the chaos upstairs, the shouts and drilling and hammering – today, Kevin and Ed putting in insulation and sound-proofing around the 4 electricians on ladders, JM dashing in and out, and in the middle of it all, two huge boxes from Wayfair with bedside lights I’d ordered a few days ago and hated on sight, needed to be repacked to be returned.
Somehow in the midst of all this, I sit in the kitchen wearing my noise-cancelling headphones, as I am now, and work. I’ve almost finished one essay and will soon finish another. For some reason, the noise and mess has spurred me on – perhaps because there’s nothing else I can do here, not even take a nap, so there’s no choice but to work. Hooray!
The second floor landing. Nice furry stuff in the walls, and next, drywall. Oh the excitement of drywall. Can’t wait.
And now – 4.55 p.m. – my reward for being alive: Wine Time.
PS Is it POSSIBLE Trump does not know what those things McDonalds sells are actually called? He tweeted about serving “hamberders.” Why are we surprised? I have one word for you: covfefe.