Folks, please forgive me if posting is a little light this week. The realtor called last Monday (that would be Feb 27 ) to tell me that in order to sell the house and get top dollar, I have to be fully moved out by Mar 14 — that is, leave a house with walls ‘n floors only so that the rehab crew can come in to make the necessary repairs and paint the place so she can list it on Apr 1.
When she said that, I told her I thought it was a pretty elaborate April Fool’s Day trick, whereupon she just repeated, “March 14,” and hung up.
The first of (I think) three 30-yard dumpsters arrives at nine this morning, and I’ve hired a team of young men with strong backs and lots of energy to clear out fourteen years of crap, detritus and junk (yeah, I know it sounds like a German legal firm) in the space of a week.
To add to it, Daughter moves out and into her apartment on Wed 8, so there’ll be her movers moving stuff around my set of movers. Let’s hope this doesn’t turn into some kind of mover-imbroglio like a West Side Story dance routine, because then I’ll just have to throw up.
As for me… well, I’m not actually going to be doing anything other than sitting on a garden chair with a gin & tonic in hand, barking orders and whipping the workers when they start getting tired. I mean, I have to turn this:
into that:
Uh huh.
Anyway, there should be a post or two each day nevertheless — even if I have to recycle that damn old Pussification thing just to keep the Red Meat Readers in full voice.
The Pussyification essay never gets old. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a canary in the coal mine warning.
When I saw you were blogging again I hoped you’d repost your Pussification entry.
It’s something that needs to see the light of day again.