I have so many things to talk about: my new purse, how awesome red couches look against a Lenox Tan wall, the difficulties inherent in choosing new patio doors - but they all require pictures, and I am not allowed to recharge my IPad until tonight.
I was also surveying my refrigerator tonight and thinking that a fridge post is in order. It's just crazy in there. And I need to tell you about my most recent fave buy from Costco (again, I need pictures). AND I have dedicated this weekend to cleaning up my bedroom enough to allow me to call a plumber to fix the master bath sink.
That's right, folks - that sink still doesn't drain. And due to Larry's passive-aggressive pre-party ministrations in that area, we've been living with the vanity emptied and tools scattered around the bathroom floor, testament to the futility of DIY around here. In other words, we are still approaching our plumbing problems in the most stupid and inefficient manner possible. It's a talent of ours.
So, the bedroom. Larry told me to call the plumber back in December, but I keep putting it off until I can make our bedroom look normal again. What with tearing apart the girls' room last fall and storing half their junk in my room and then tearing apart the living room, I just haven't gotten around to dealing with all the flotsam and jetsam (stuffed animals, bunkbed guard rails, an extra mirror, etc) that have taken up residence in what used to be my haven from chaos.
You see, I just don't need to feel any more public humiliation over my housekeeping abilities at this point. Yesterday we had a woman here to measure for patio doors (the living room project, remember?). But while she was here, she also wanted to check on a couple of window latches that had stopped working (her company had installed our windows 7 years ago). One window was in the guest bedroom downstairs - you know, the room where we have temporarily stored 2 dining room tables, 5 chairs, and assorted table leaves that used to live behind the dining room hutch.
That was fun.
Then she had to check out the other window, which happens to be in my 17-year-old son's bedroom. That is, it belongs to David, whose pack rat tendencies have already been well-documented on this blog. Understand that I am simply waiting until August at this point, when he leaves for college, to address what has happened in that part of my house. And picture how it felt to let a stranger into that room.
So, yeah - the plumber will have to wait until I get a handle on the situation in my master bedroom. Which should be this weekend, if all goes according to plan...