Almost Back to Routine... Almost.
Wet paint, wet varnish, new flooring... those have been the smells of our home for the past couple of weeks; and they are still the smells of our home.
Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad smell (it's a heck of a lot better than that ghastly balsamic vinegar and broccoli concoction The Wife whips up on the stove now and then). But it is the smell of chaos and disorganization.
I'm ready to get back to normal -- we are all ready to get back to normal. And we are almost there.
Yet when I look at the before and after pictures, it makes the temporary pain of disorder a bit more worth it.
But still, I've been having problems.
I am a creature of habit, mostly because I have a chronic condition called CRAFT* and I always have a place for everything and everything in its place.
For example, I always place my work ID tag and my car keys in the same place all the time -- specifically, in the entry way on a hook: this is where I put my stuff. This cannot be altered. This cannot be changed.
However, we have had limited access to our entry way because of new tiling and stairs and I've been forced to make slight changes in my daily routine. Just like magic, my CRAFT kicks in. I've misplaced my ID tag and car keys more in the past two weeks than I have in the past two years combined.
This is a significant problem because I can't work without proper identification, and I can't get to my job without a vehicle (well, technically I could, but I don't want to walk that far).
Ultimately, I can't pay for any of this new sh*t if I don't go to work. Oh irony, you cruel mistress.
So I had my physical today with my doctor. Happily, my integrity was not violated... I'm still a little too young for that exam. All in all, there's a very high percentage chance that I will not drop dead of natural causes in the next year. That is always a good thing to hear.
Any day above ground is a good day. And death is so damn inconvenient... and permanent.
In other news, I am reading an interesting book right now...
It is written by Nancy Gibbs and Michael Duffy and it is a nicely written, in-depth study examining the fraternity of former American Presidents.
This is something I had never thought much about, but it is amazing how often sitting Presidents have relied on their predecessors' counsel over the years, even though many have been fierce political rivals.
It seems something changes once you become a "former" President. You know what the next poor sap is up against. You've sat in that seat and you know how difficult the job is. You have an indelible respect for the office.
At the same time, the incoming President looks to his predecessors for advice, someone to bounce ideas off; perhaps just someone to listen, because they have been there and done that. Someone to ask, "What the hell did I get myself into?"
It's a refreshing viewpoint of American politics.
Think about it: only four other living people in the world know what challenges President Obama faces every day. That's a pretty exclusive club.
That's enough for now. The Girl is sleepwalking and it's freaking me out.
*Can't Remember A Frickin' Thing
Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad smell (it's a heck of a lot better than that ghastly balsamic vinegar and broccoli concoction The Wife whips up on the stove now and then). But it is the smell of chaos and disorganization.
I'm ready to get back to normal -- we are all ready to get back to normal. And we are almost there.
 |
| Before... |
 |
| After... |
 |
| Before... |
 |
| After... |
But still, I've been having problems.
I am a creature of habit, mostly because I have a chronic condition called CRAFT* and I always have a place for everything and everything in its place.
For example, I always place my work ID tag and my car keys in the same place all the time -- specifically, in the entry way on a hook: this is where I put my stuff. This cannot be altered. This cannot be changed.
However, we have had limited access to our entry way because of new tiling and stairs and I've been forced to make slight changes in my daily routine. Just like magic, my CRAFT kicks in. I've misplaced my ID tag and car keys more in the past two weeks than I have in the past two years combined.
This is a significant problem because I can't work without proper identification, and I can't get to my job without a vehicle (well, technically I could, but I don't want to walk that far).
Ultimately, I can't pay for any of this new sh*t if I don't go to work. Oh irony, you cruel mistress.
On Twitter, these would be called #firstworldproblems.
So I had my physical today with my doctor. Happily, my integrity was not violated... I'm still a little too young for that exam. All in all, there's a very high percentage chance that I will not drop dead of natural causes in the next year. That is always a good thing to hear.
Any day above ground is a good day. And death is so damn inconvenient... and permanent.
In other news, I am reading an interesting book right now...
It is written by Nancy Gibbs and Michael Duffy and it is a nicely written, in-depth study examining the fraternity of former American Presidents.
This is something I had never thought much about, but it is amazing how often sitting Presidents have relied on their predecessors' counsel over the years, even though many have been fierce political rivals.
It seems something changes once you become a "former" President. You know what the next poor sap is up against. You've sat in that seat and you know how difficult the job is. You have an indelible respect for the office.
At the same time, the incoming President looks to his predecessors for advice, someone to bounce ideas off; perhaps just someone to listen, because they have been there and done that. Someone to ask, "What the hell did I get myself into?"
It's a refreshing viewpoint of American politics.
Think about it: only four other living people in the world know what challenges President Obama faces every day. That's a pretty exclusive club.
That's enough for now. The Girl is sleepwalking and it's freaking me out.
*Can't Remember A Frickin' Thing
