up against it.

The interview went really well, and thank you to those who offered to lend their heads (there will be a reward in heaven for you, I just learned, because Jesus and I are pretty tight, since I'm a famous blogger TM, and if you don't get the hilarity of that then I really can't be of any help to you on any level and we ought to probably part ways as of this moment), and thanks to those of you who just assumed I could handle it on my own.  Somehow, despite all of my stubborn belief to the opposite extent, I did it. 

But going into this readying-the-house business is tough; we have a lot to do in the next week (we're shooting to list in the middle of the week, a week from now, or, technically, nine days). 

Sod to lay, plants to dig holes for and, uh, plant, windows to clean, floors to scrub, painting to finish - oh, dear heavens, the painting; several rooms' worth - hardware and outlets to change out, baseboards to tape off and paint (hundreds of feet of them, in fact), chairs to paint and recover for the dining room (yes, those two black chairs that I finished are still lonely in their efforts to flesh out the room they inhabit in somewhat-moribund fashion, however fashionable they may now be), floors to scrub, again, faucets to change out (doing it myself, and terribly nervous, but staunchly determined), light fixtures to replace, a storage unit to arrange for and begin filling with the piles of things yet-to-be-tossed, that-really-ought-to-be-gone-by-now (*wrings hands, silent and desperate*), floors to scrub, AGAIN, minor repairs to be made in every room, caulking (*snicker*), oh, so much caulking (*doubles down on snicker attack*), a bathroom that requires a shower-head installation, cement-board and taping completed, tile installed (that part we're having done by a professional), and the tub refinished (again, pro-intervention; we're not *utter* idiots - just mildly so, and by we, I do mostly just mean my husband.  I'm kidding.  OF COURSE he's an idiot.  JOKING!  It's me.  I'm the idiot.  A lovable one, but a nidjit nonetheless.  My husband is brilliant regarding everything that does not involve having chosen me for his partner.  Sorry about that permanent-yoking business, babe).  (Doy.)

And there's just really an endless list of items that require cleaning.  The carpet on the stairs, our fabulous, very new, very lovely wheat-toned Berber carpet, is a sodden mess, after the last few seasons of unkempt dog paws and toddler feet having barreled up and down their length too many times to count, and, well, dude, we have a dog and a toddler.  You get the picture.

All of that notwithstanding, this blog, and my pretty, beloved fanciness, Did You Buy That New?, yes, that one, oh, sigh, it fades, it fades and is unbecoming in its faded unglory (not because of the other GIVING-ME-A-HARD-ON-WITH-THEIR-AWESOMENESS contributors, but because of me, because I was really. gonna. stick with it. on that, and, well, yes, the usual fail, etc).

I'm quite sure you all understand.  And if you don't?  Screw you!  (Look!  I'm even using exclamation points!, and you know what those do to my skin.)

Seriously.

Screw.  You.

(I'm mainly referring to my asshole following, here; what, you weren't aware of them?  Me neither.  But I've heard you haven't really made it as a Big Blogger TM if you haven't got an asshole contingent hanging on your every libelous, snarky, loathsome utterance, so I have to get there somehow, right?, and if it isn't through actually having been trolled in comments, then, by the eyes of my sweet friend with whom I walk alongside idyllic rivers, Jesus, I shall simply lie through my teeth.  Fuck.  I'll lie with my teeth SPREAD WIDE APART.  I'm so nervy.)

(I'm nervy x 1000.)

(*weeps openly*)

Comments

[Maria]

Don't call me an asshole. Call me a cunt.

Damn you have a lot to do to the house!

[qt]

I second the motion for a cunt t-shirt.

Nice work on the article, babes. I knew you had it in ya...

[flutter]

Dude, I will embroider you a cunt tee

[PunditMom]

You did GREAT on that interview!

[apathy lounge]

Dear Deb,

Pack all of your stuff and move here to Texas. Next door, if I can persuade my neighbors to move. We'll have drinks together and string colored lights in the trees between our houses. I'll make soup and you can come over and have a bowl. It'll be good. I promise.

[katie ~ motherbumper]

caaaaaaaaaaaaulk - you said caulk

and I would never ever in a bazillion years use the word fail to describe anything you touch... DYBTN is a quiet work of love and beauty.