A schedule? Ha! What am I saying? As long as this remodeling/construction is going on there will be no schedule. And for a person who thrives on routine and having everything in place . . . well, you won't be surprised when you hear I've checked myself into the Funny Farm some time soon.
We spent last Thursday in the big city (left at 6:15 a.m. and arrived home at 9:30 p.m.) going from store to store trying to make intelligent, sane decisions on countertops and floor tile. Well, okay, we looked at and got info on a lot of other stuff, too, but needed to get the countertops and kitchen tile nailed down.
Papa Pea holds out extremely well on a day like that if he gets frequent infusions of industrial-strength coffee and has an occasional brief puff on his pipe. Me? I seem to hit one brick wall after another (caused by sensory overload and way too much thinking) and barely made it home alive. Unfortunately, circumstances necessitated me being gone from home nearly all day yesterday, too, so there was no time for catching up or recovery. I did manage to get into bed early last night and tried to relax by watching a bit of the British TV series "Upstairs, Downstairs" before hubby made it to bed. I kept dozing off so finally gave it up and turned off the light, but then couldn't fall asleep because of being physically uncomfortable . . . just plain over-tired.
This morning I woke at 5:15 . . . and was done sleeping. So far today I feel pretty good so am concentrating on making it a good catch-up day while still managing to possibly do a little in the move ahead department.
Living in this (small) torn apart warehouse is starting to get through to me. The last several days have produced no visible progress which is what keeps me going during all of this. (Remember, I'm concrete.) I know there have to be such times, but it still bothers me. Nothing seems to go quickly or smoothly. In my makeshift kitchen, I'm constantly reaching in the wrong place for something needed, only finding it after turning around in place three times and opening and shutting four drawers and/or cabinets. It's a strange feeling when I automatically reach overhead to the hanging pot rack (which is no longer there or ever was above my present work area) for a pan only to find my hand groping in thin air. Also makes me feel (and look) a little whacked out and stoopid.
But, hey, it's all part of the game and this, too, will pass. Either that or I will go completely crackers. Indication that I may be well on my way? I am buying paint today to repaint the pantry. It's one thing when I keep trying to talk myself into living with and/or forgetting about that atrocious color on the walls, but when Papa Pea who usually doesn't even notice something like that says, "We have GOT to repaint these walls," I just knew it had to be done.
But don't worry about me. Give me today to pull together as much organization as I can muckle right now and by tomorrow I'll be tack on bop of things. I mean back on top of things. Possibly. With luck. And lots of cool, liquid libations throughout the day today. As Erin recently said when they started imbibing at 11:30 a.m., "It's five o'clock somewhere!"
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