That’s what it feels like, this preparing to move and trying to find workers we can afford. I needed one thing to go smoothly, and this was it. We walked into the floor store, and I asked the guy to show me the least expensive hardwoods he had in stock. Excellent. Next day delivery, whee! The delivery guys even called when they said they would, and showed up on time. And that’s where the smoothness ended. Turns out the wood was in the wrong type of boxes, not packed correctly, or something. Because as they unloaded their truck onto the elevator, boxes were splitting and planks were spilling out. Off the elevator, more planks hitting the floor. Hi, new neighbors! No really, we’re quiet people, try not to hate us yet. Needless to say, lots of boards were damaged. This did make it easy for me to take some of the planks that didn’t have a box anymore and play puzzle on the floor.
And Art Child saw the piece. The perfect piece. She took it and placed it on the floor in what will be her room. Sure, the linoleum tiles currently in there are an excellent example of late ’60’s decor, but I don’t think we’ll miss them too much.
I would pissercize my anxiety away, but I re-injured my back pulling old nails and hooks out of the walls. Ohhmmmm. I’ll just meditate on my future new tank. I’ve got the perfect spot all picked out.
Husband and I went to get little sample cans of paint colors this morning, and as I was hyperventilating, thinking of the work and cost ahead, this song came on the radio. I don’t think I’ve even heard it in twenty-five or thirty years. Not a soothing song, but I was soothed. Maybe it just threw me back all those years, to the many moves I’ve made, and how it’s always worked out. Besides, it’s Friday, and that’s always good.