So I managed to get through the week (le pant, le gasp). Think I put more miles on the car this week than in the past month. Mostly in trips down to Southcenter to order, pick up and/or exchange lighting hardware for the house. The HVAC guys ended up taking up a lot more space downstairs than before, so there are a number of very... er, "creative" soffit constructs here and there. It is so amazing to see how little these guys consider the other trades when doing their own work. 'Scuse me, just gonna bust through this wall here... what? You don't want a two-foot box hanging down from the middle of your bedroom ceiling??
Anyway, the insurance company, in their infinite generosity, has given me a whopping $1500.00 allowance for replacing my upstairs appliances. That means I will be out of pocket another four grand or so (on top of the four grand for the cabinetry). Joy. We can cover that with some of the contents settlement, but I really have to be careful.
Looks like I will be running speaker and network cable today and tomorrow, and the electrical will be finished up next week (followed by inspection). Insulation will also go in next week, and the drywall will go up while we're in California. Target date for move-in is end of September.
It's hell trying to keep organized records in this micro-office next to my bed, but I really need to pull together all the financials from last tax year to give to my poor, long-suffering accountant. I wonder if there is a subconscious reason I've procrastinated so long in getting the records together - like it's a way to hold onto Sam. 2005 is the last tax year I can file married. A lot happened that year. A lot I'd like to forget, and a lot I never want to forget.
Or maybe it's just because we had a fire and a lot of our records were destroyed, and I've had a host of other priorities at the same time. Regardless of the excuse, I need to get the records to the accountant before we leave for California.
My neighbor/friend/actress/producer Darlene accompanied the kids and me to the hospital on Thursday night to visit Caleb. He's in fine, surly spirits. Apparently, his major criteria for being discharged is that he must fart. I offered to bring him some Taco del Mar, but he declined. Apparently beef broth, jello and tea are more his thing. Honestly, I didn't expect both kids to want to go with us to the hospital - the last two people they visited in such a setting died. But they did, and they were good. The kids left a mantra on the whiteboard:
Happy thought for the day...
FART!
Addendum: Andrew has this posted over at his LiveJournal. I decided to check it out, and surprise surprise...
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