This got long so I'm only posting the morning. If I have time later I'll post the afternoon. Or, I don't know, now that I re-read this I think it's kind of boring, so maybe I won't bother...
6:30 Awake/ Cold microwaved popcorn for breakfast -- yum!
Why up so early on a weekend morning, you ask? Because I, apparently, am old before my time. Johnny still can (and still wants to) sleep until 9, 10, sometimes even 11:00 (if I’m sick or out of town -- or if I‘ve done something I don‘t want him to know about), so I generally write for a few hours, work out at the other end of the house, shower… But eventually I forget and slam a door or something and than boom, the giant’s awake. It makes for martially blissful weekend mornings, let me tell you…
7:21 Andy knocks. Johnny answers the door in his underpants.
Andy had said he’d call for us “probably not until 9:00.” I thought I had time to write for an hour and still get in a quick workout and shower, but now…? Well, now I’m not quite sure what. Andy stopped in, apparently, to tell us that he’d see us at 9:00. Okay?
7:23 I stain the g-d door.
Now I’m all kerfuffled, so I decide to go ahead and get it over with. In the twenty minutes that it takes (all together: from going to the basement for the stain through washing out the brush: 20 minutes), I get yelled at for not putting a drop cloth down (I put plastic grocery bags -- well, it was only going to take a minute and I didn’t know where the drops were and I didn’t want to bother him!) and I, as I’ve already mentioned, realize it looks like ass.
Johnny: “If you don’t like the way it came out, I can always paint it for you, hon.”
Me: gurgling sounds
Silence
Me: “Okay, here’s what I’ll do. I’ll finish it, and I’ll hang it, and we’ll live with it for a while, and if it’s just truly awful then we’ll paint it.”
See, the thing is, we aren’t going to live here forever. Hopefully we won’t be here anymore by the time Barack gets reelected. So everything we do, we do with an eye towards selling the house. And this freaking door is literally the first thing you see when you enter the house. If it looks like ass, it cannot stay, no matter how much glass I crawled through to achieve this assy grace.
Johnny: “Can’t paint it once it’s varnished.”
Me: more gurgling
Johnny: “Well, you can, but it’ll peel right off.”
Me: “How right off?”
Johnny: “Well, like in a couple years.”
Me: “So we’ll wait until we’re selling before we put it on.”
Ta da, problem solved!
Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s not like I’m propping up a deck with strawberry ice cream. If I hadn’t had The Expert here I wouldn’t have known it was going to peel and, knowing me, once I hung it I wouldn’t have gotten around to painting until the last minute anyway.
So I’m absolved.
And besides, maybe the door will turn out lover-ly.
8:42 Andy calls to say don’t come until 9:30
9:45 We get to his apartment
11:00 We leave his apartment
12:30 We get to his house
It’s supposed to be a 45 minute drive, but I was following him and he decided to take the scenic route. Plus the town of Plympton was having its 300th birthday celebration so the road was closed and we had to take a 20-minute detour through the backwoods of Plympton.
We still don’t know how one was supposed to actually get to the celebration, if one was so inclined…
I'm not supposed to have to Puritan-Manifest today because we have family plans. But if I get a wild hair I might play with a little varnish...
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