Thursday, January 30, 2014

Kitchen Project. Day 8.

One week ago, we started the demo.

Today things started to look a little like they are going back together again.

Yesterday, I hurt myself trying to vacuum all the insulation that workmen tracked all over my home.  When I had my surgery, the doctor told me no shoveling, no vacuuming.  She said, "You are a new car."

But chunks of pink insulation taunted me from all over my floors.  Pink insulation isn't something I can let lie.  When they went through my bedroom closet to get to the attic to put the lights in my bathroom, they got a lot of insulation in there too.  I vacuumed it three times, but I still went to bed with insulation all over my pajamas (I realized too late), and I found yet more insulation behind the closet door this morning.
I did a great deal of necessary vacuuming yesterday, and then I told Shawn, "I think I have dented the new car."

Today, I laid low, in hopes of avoiding the need for surgical reconstruction. 

I wrote 4323 words on a book I will never publish and nobody will ever read (or maybe I wrote half of those words yesterday).  As the sky turned pink with sunset, Microsoft Word cursed my formatting and the margins mutinied, so I did a "save" and "close."

I gave up on nutrition , sloshing a can of chicken and dumplings into the crockpot with some token cans of mixed vegetables, a feeble attempt to shore up a meal based on carbs, gluten and MSG, three things I try to avoid, but my heart is just plumb-wore-out.  Licked.

Oh.  And the guys doing the work said their boss's timeline is not realistic.  The cabinets will not be installed by Tuesday.  Seems reasonable, based on what I can see.

Our old refrigerator lurks uncomfortably in the midst of a changing world, holding just enough food to beckon us down when we are desperate.

The lights, switches, outlets and sheet-rock are in place, over plumbing and duct-work, which are also in place.

The dust is heavy, but I am lying low.  If I clean tomorrow, it will last all weekend.


Shannon said...

Three things:

1. don't hurt yourself
2. writing is good for the psyche
3. microsoft word is THE WORST

Shawn said...

dear gentle writer,

my job is to keep you humble.

wm (bill) gates