I might have mentioned that I have vacation next week. I believe that I was dithering about what to do with said vacation — visit one or other of my daughters, hike the 187-mile trail here in the neighborhood, clean the garage…
I learned a day or two ago that #2 son, who had been my intended companion on whatever adventures we decided on, has finals that week. This was a grave shock. We have been hearing about June 1st being the last day of school for months. So I am the only one of the family with that week off.
Oh, and there was the day a couple of weeks ago that I learned that I have to work on June 2nd, and sing a solo on June 10th (I wanted that solo, though), so that I would not have even one full weekend of vacation.
Then, just now, I had a call from the carpet restretching guy.
If you read my blog and have total recall, you will know that the boys’ bedroom furniture has been in the living room for about a week. The carpet guy wanted me to know that he won’t get here for another week.
This means that the midpoint of my vacation will consist of staying at home waiting for the carpet guy.
I am feeling very sorry for myself. I had just about adjusted to the idea of having a quiet week at home, with perhaps some day trips of some kind, and now I have the first half of the week in a continued state of being surrounded by random piles of furniture, the midpoint hanging around waiting for carpet guys (something which we have actually been doing since last Thursday)…
Maybe I will clean the garage after all.