Lights! Plumbing! Action!

The house now has power — or at least, the back half does. Fortunately, that’s where the kitchen and bedroom are located, so I’m satisfied. AND, last night (!), our Amazing Plumber* installed our toilet and, at the crack of dawn (!), showed up to finish the sink, tub, and hook up the hot water heater. By the time I finish work today — sigh, I have to work today — I’ll be able to do something I haven’t done in nearly six months: take a bath.**

"Sink Island"

Isla’s favorite activity.

Of course, now that our house is habitable, I have considerably more leisure time. Or more accurately, I have the exact same amount of leisure time; it’s just that now, I need not devote all of it to the onerous tasks of hauling water in buckets and bottles, becoming the America’s Test Kitchen of toaster oven cooking (“It probably won’t catch fire, not if we keep an eye on it.”), or *shudder* emptying the piss jug.

So now what? I feel like one of those heroes or heroines who devote their entire lives to seeking revenge, complete said revenge, and then find themselves staring down the pike at 40 or 50 years of…what, exactly? Knitting? Starting a family? Founding a mixed martial arts school for at-risk youth, just so all those hand-to-hand combat skills don’t go to waste?

Should I construct a rainwater shower complete with solar-powered heater? Or some sort of generator that runs on urine, like those African schoolgirls invented? Because there’s always the possibility that SOMETHING ELSE WILL GO WRONG, and I would like to be prepared for whatever that may be. (Best guess: our kitchen remains in a state that most construction industry professionals would call “sketchy,” but we are out of money, possibly forever, so we’ll just have to hope it doesn’t collapse on our heads.)

What I’d really like to do, aside from enjoying the worst movies Netflix has to offer, is overhaul the projects section of this website. All of the projects are novel-length fiction and most of them are complete, with some having even undergone at least one revision. So — given the fact that I’ve got no real plans for any of them and given my checkered history with computer hardware*** — why not just store them somewhere safe-ish, like the Interwebs, on a website/blog that almost nobody looks at? (And if some insomniac stumbles upon them and unwittingly discovers the key to peaceful, uninterrupted sleep****, or else if somebody’s just bored at work, then…well, good. They’ll have served some purpose.)

Right now, my main issues have to do with formatting, but as soon as I figure those out, there may be more on here to look at. You know, besides my attempts to make and wear a pair of eyeglasses made of kosher pretzels:

"Kosher Pretzels"

Unleash your inner New Yorker cartoonist and caption away!

*Amazing Plumber is going to get the BEST Angie’s List write-up EVER. Dude, this guy will cheerfully install a toilet at 9 pm so that you don’t have to poop in the woods on Thanksgiving Day. Speaking of which — forget Angie’s List, I might just write directly to the Vatican.
**No, I have not completely given up on personal hygiene. We live across the street from my nephew and his folks, who have been kind enough to let us shower at their place whenever we start to stink.
***I’ve been lucky in love, but not computers. All of my machines have been like bad boyfriends. The kind that wait until the day after the warranty expires to melt their own hard drives.  The kind of machine where a background check reveals things you realize you’re not at all surprised to learn. The kind that (damn me!) I keep crawling back to (because what choice do I have?) until they finally and definitively leave me in the lurch at critical moments — midterms, online job applications that are 95 % complete, e-mails containing status updates on loved ones in hospital.
****Entirely possible. I keep a very old book by the name of Trader Horn for precisely this purpose. To this day, I have never managed to get past page 20 without passing out.

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