Skeleton You Are My Friend

Sigh.
What a weekend it has been.

I don't know why I didn't blog about this sooner, maybe I was just waiting for something more tangible. Anyways, about a week and a half ago now...

*drum-roll please*

We got occupancy on our house! (Finally)

My dad had fired the contractor two days prior, so it was doubley awesome. In my cynicism, I'm convinced that had he not fired the guy, we'd still be in the rental til April (at least).
That being said, I spent my day off Friday hauling box after box across the street and up the stairs to my new room. I had most of my room in the other house by the time I had to go to my first worship practice since December.
The following morning I woke up for work, switched on my overhead light and the last bulb (out of four) burnt out. I saw that as the sign that it was the day to move the bed. Last night I became the first to spend the night in "The Steamboat" (something I've semi-affectionately deemed the house).
Sitting here now, besides feeling exhausted, spent, and sore; I do kind of get a sense of home. It's bizarre moving back into my childhood home after a two-and-a-half year span of absence. Even though my room is the only one that looks wholly furnished and occupied, I imagine walking downstairs and finding everything just as I left it so many years ago.

We're still a long ways away from being completely moved in. Like a long, long ways in a faraway galaxy. It doesn't really help that only two people so far have done all the moving. I won't name names, but The Brunettes kick ass in working hard.

Know who else kicks ass? David, the guy doing our closets. He just works. I appreciate that. I wish he had been doing this whole job. We might have made it in by the first estimated date, third at the latest.

Alas, the outdated system that is daylight savings is getting the best of my mental faculties. And it'll get the best of my sleep when I have to get up for work. Curse you, rural farming communities who decided to set up our national time keeping system!

Buenas noches mis fajitas.

What to do with the leftover you

This blog is for Molly.
Little did I know that she depended on my blogs like she depends on punching people.
Appreciate the fact that I turned my computer back on just for you, my dear.
I know, Living Sacrifice personified.

So, life.
I've been working a lot. Brandon went to weekends only so he could be Mr. Dad for his new daughter. While his replacement is getting trained, I'm taking his shifts which means I go straight from work to school most days. I've become quite adept at changing pants in my cozy car. And the extra time has cushioned my tip cup quite nicely. It's also given me the opportunity to work on my latte art which I somewhat difficult for me because it requires me to be both patient and relent on perfectionist tenancies. It's also funny though as Annette has asked me to do the espresso cart at church every other week or so and when I pour drinks there, if there's even a tiny squiggle or hint of movement in the foam, they gather around and "oooh" or "ahh"! It makes me feel better when I try to actually do a rosetta at work and fail epically whilst Joey or Nicci are watching.

School is the same old same old. Have I mentioned I despise Russian history?
I do.
I am excited that I will probably never have to touch another Russian class after this semester though. But then again, knowing WSU TC and the innovation they possess, they will find a way to change that!

I spent the majority of the daylight hours with Padre today. The crisp pre-noon half-hour or so was spent digging through the recycling receptacles with a metal rake. We had taken cardboard from outside the "Old" house last night to recycle like the back-patting, earth saving, global warming stopping superheroes we are. Then this morning, Mom "informed" us that there was a power strip in a long cardboard tube that needed to be returned. So off we went to retrieve the tube.
I don't know about elsewhere, but around these parts it seems the people enjoy spending their leisurely Sunday mornings hauling giant chunks of cardboard to the recycle bins. There were so many new pieces on top of where I thought I had put the tubes.
So there we were, man with a metal rake, girl with a shovel, trying to pull waste out of a huge bin with only half-a-foot openings. It also didn't help that the slats were at about forehead level for me.
After many scrapped knuckles on Padre's part, weird looks from other green superheroes, and one man informing us that pulling things out is illegal, we found all the tubes.
And they were empty.

Thankfully, the rest of our day was not quite as wasted as we then went home and swept, vacuumed, and mopped the entire basement. It was not the most exhilarating tasks to do on one's day off, but we were happy to work together and get us all one step closer to D-Day.

So I guess that's my update/instant blog for today.
My eyes are starting to burn. Oh how I remember the days of staying up past midnight....

Now you owe me one,

-KL