I was told to ‘CHILL’ in all caps tonight from my contractor.
I can see why the moosh is so smitten kitten with him. (Truth be told she’s moved onto Keith, the do everything and anything man that works for Gene, he has a charming Midwestern drawl.)
I can also see why home renovations can easily lead to divorce. Or at least leaving you wishing you had built a separate bedroom for that toad that insists on calling himself your husband who thinks you have crappy taste in wood flooring. (Note: We have two extra bedrooms plus miss moosh will have a bunk bed, and no I don’t want him to sleep in either of them, he’s not a toad and he loves my taste in fine bamboo flooring.)
With the (possible) toking subcontractors, fantastic curtains from JCPenney and walls with pain colors like ‘Urban Putty’ ‘Studio Taupe’ ‘Whole Wheat’ and ‘Enchanted’ I’m about to fall on my face with excitement.
Naturally this is where I would show you pictures. BUT HA! I HAVE NONE! I’m so busy making kissy faces at my floors and sniffing the paint fumes that I keep forgetting to bring my camera.
Appliances will be delivered Monday (ZOMG APPLIANCES THAT I PICKED OUT AND THAT ARE MIIIIIINE!)
And if all goes well? I get to move out of the hotel on the ninth and into my home on the tenth (or something like that.)
Pictures are coming. This whole thing will be the best Christmas present ever. EVER.
Now tell me, have home renovations almost lead you down the path of destruction? Also? Is it natural to want to kiss your contractor on the nose?