The kitchen is doneish. It looks very nice. So nice I think it's too nice for us. We had better move before we ruin it. We've already stained the granite. I'm sure the internets will provide a stain-removal system that doesn't remove the entire igneous rock.
I have also successfully entertained while in town: sister P and boyfriend Charlie, Friend Misty and boyfried John (who we once called John Crack. He's stayed at my house often enough that I can call him a friend too) and my mom and dad's old friend Lori Friedman who has three boys--Chason, Asher & Daden. Her husband, who I met at dinner, ran the show. He'd say, tell me what you want, I'll go order it and yell, how many more pitchers of beer. Sometimes, especially in groups of 16, I like that sort of take-charge guy.
I missed K.C.'s birthday party, many many deadlines and sleep.
I also neglected to list my Friday Stupids list. Twice!
The capper was getting a phone call from my nonfiction editor asking me if I was coming to the lunch I had organized. I had said when I arranged the meeting, oh, I like to be places early. I'll be there at 11:55. I showed up at quarter to one (edited from my earlier mistype that said "noon").
Brilliant. On so many levels.
I've also lost my debit card, my car keys, my school keys, my cap & gown receipt and Zoe's favorite toys.
And yet, barring any unforeseen slights and misgivings, they still might give me my PhD.
At this juncture--and the road must be chosen quickly--I still have to decide if we're renting or selling our house, having movers move us or stuffing our own stuff into a truck, taking these hideous hutches, buying a house in East or downtown G.R. and whether Egg will work or stay home with Zo.
And, to be done in the next few weeks: grade 25 proposals, contract for, receive files from author and layout Issue 62 of QW, write rountable review with E Burger and Paul K and submit book(s) to last of the season contests.
Speaking of contests, my poetry manuscript/dissertation "Comeuppance" was one of 6 finalists, along with my friend Mike White's book "Vegetable Love" for a pretty big poetry contest. Another decision: Change my title? Vegetable Love, now that's a good title.