Right, so jumping straight into it, my life, as of late, has been a seemingly endless cycle of renovation-induced insanity. We are installing new ceramic tile and carpeting throughout, and to cut down on the labour costs, I have undertaken the monumental task of ripping up all of our existing hardwood floors and ceramic tile myself. It has been a dirty and difficult job, made all the worse by the fact that we are also having our bathroom redone, so, you know, no plumbing. Compounding all of the above, I’ve also been dealing with tradespeople who can’t respect an appointment, tradespeople who won’t return my calls, period, and a very involved condo board.
So I’ve been busy doing non-nail art things, as the state of those poor nails is, well, abysmal. But I suppose that’s what’s happens when you spend three days yanking splintered boards of wood off the ground with a two-foot-long crowbar.
And so that is where I have been, once again with my apologies for flaking off on you kind readers and interested onlookers. Years ago I stopped reading a blog by a woman I otherwise really liked and admired because she began every post with an apology for who-knows-what, usually a nominal absence of just one or two days. It grew so irksome, I stopped following her blog altogether. Now I find myself in that same position, and I’m apologizing for that, too! Good lord, the only way I could get more Canadian right now is if I had a beaver tucked up under one arm (heh.) Please don’t leave me, who will I talk to about Disney and twenty one pilots?
But I swear I’ve been up to more than just manning the phones, brute-forcing out an entire apartment’s worth of flooring and apologizing for things. I’ve been reading A LOT (I’m nearly up to eight books for the year!) and planning all sorts of manicures for my Literary Inspiration series.
I’ve been trying to mind my diet and exercise and failing badly. I don’t operate very well under stress, and food is a comfort when everything else is a half-finished mess. I wish – oh, how I wish – I could get that drive back that I once had not so very long ago to do better, be better, but potato chips are so very tempting and my willpower has been non-existent. Why can’t I get together?
I’ve been watching a lot of new (or new-to-me) movies and television shows. This is remarkable only in that I’m a real “Well, why not Beetlejuice for the 137th time?” kind of person, but I’ve found all sorts of new favourites, including Crazy Rich Asians (oh my word, THAT WEDDING) and a super cute show on Netflix called Derry Girls about a group of teenagers living in Northern Ireland in the early ’90s.
Maybe it’s the chaos of the renovations. Maybe it’s my lingering sadness at losing our beloved cat late last year. Or maybe it’s just the way one inevitably feels when the six-month-long winter of our discontent is finally drawing to a close and you just don’t know what to do with yourself when you’re not living in a snow globe. But I feel curiously flat and affectless, and I’d like it to stop.
Anyhow, please do bask in the half-finished state of our apartment and marvel, ye gods!, at the bare expanses of floor, for I am the Renovation Queen! Hold the (Bathroom) Door, Plumbing is Coming, etc. 😉