My Demolition

I feel hungover today, and all I did last night was watch people drink. It's going to be a long six weeks. I can't believe that at the same stage with my last pregnancy, I managed to pack up a house and move. I can barely move myself around this week-end. Bitch, complain, whine, moan.....

The other night, I dreamt that I was adopted by Ellen DeGeneres, and that she and Portia de Rossi were going to help me raise my unborn child. Is that weird?

The eye update: I would say that the average person would not notice that I impaled my eyeball with an exploding bottle last week-end. It's almost not even worth mentioning, except for the fact that my post about that incident generated more comments than usual for me. I am now going to pepper all of my future posts with the phrase, "bleeding eyeball", just to keep the flow of comments coming in.

And now for the highlight of my week, MY DEMOLITION!!!!! (cue music from the game show, Definition, because "demolition" and "definition" sort of, like, rhyme). Behold, a picture of my favourite room in my house:

This ugly room is my favourite because it's bareness is indicative of something that I have been waiting for for a long time. About two years ago, hubby and I decided that our family room was really ugly in an '80s sort of way, and that we needed to start from scratch if we were ever going to love it. The paint colour was my error as I was talked into it by a painter who scorned me for going with off-white in my last house. I took his advise on the current house, and regretted it right away. We never re-painted because we then got the idea for a complete renovation. Anyhow, since construction was part of the equation, I met with a decorator to determine how to proceed. The decorator came up with drawings, and then it was up to us. Hubby wanted to use a particular contractor named Neil. Yes, Neil is his real name. I'm trying to shame him so Neil, if you happen to find this post, it serves you right! Neil was doing a lot of carpentry and mill work from my husband's company, so it seemed like a good idea to use him, given that he would want to please us to ensure future work within the company, or so one would think. Neil kept putting us off, and lying to us, and never came to do the work. Finally, after A YEAR AND A HALF (!!!!!), hubby decided that maybe Neil was not the man for the job. Either Neil isn't a smart businessman, or his actions have something to do with an unsuccessful blind date that he and I went on about 15 years ago. It was a one-time-only date that didn't go anywhere, which he may or may not have remembered. Yeah, I went on a blind date - I was lonely, ok??? I wasn't always this hot and marketable. (Shut up and leave me to my delusions - they make me happy.) Anyhow I never did let on that I recognized him on the one occasion that he came to look at the room. Small world nonetheless. So now we have a real contractor who is working on our project as we speak, a completed demolition, electricians and flooring people scheduled, new furniture jammed into several rooms, and only six weeks to go until the baby is born. That widget on the right is now a countdown for two events. The race is on! Place your bets on which one will happen first!

...oh yeah, I almost forgot... bleeding eyeball!