What a week

it may take some time to recover

The week from hell has ended. Now the hard part starts.

Work was seriously harsh this week, an uber-portion of unrealistic deadlines and massive work-load. Fortunately, I started my weekend early.

We closed on the new Casa de Heywood late Thursday afternoon and it was quite possible one of the worst experiences of my entire life. I shant go into great detail here, as we are contemplating legal action against the mortgage lender. Suffice it to say: It sucked.

Yeah, yeah; I know "All's well that ends well" and all that crap; but the level of stress imposed upon the parties involved due to the sheer incompetence of the "party of the third part" cannot be let to pass unpunished. It was actually quite comical, in retrospect: twice during the closing, three of the five people in the room were simultaneously on cell phones having screaming sessions with various nimrods at the mortgage lender. The poor "closer girl" from the title company had a white-knuckle grip on the file and kept inching towards the door.

Anyway, the deal got done and everything is cool on that front. The sellers and the real estate agent were great: really nice people all around; it will not surprise me in the least if we exchange christmas cards in the future.

And the house! Casa de Heywood, Mark III is spectacular. I can't wait to paint it.

Twelve hours after the closing ended, I went under the knife for some minor surgury. All's well, recovering nicely, Thank You Very Much. I am pissed, though. My personal rule is "you cut me, I get narcotics" not this tylenol / motrin BS routine. Sigh. I have discovered the medicinal effects of cheap rum, so I think I'll make it.

So the rest of the weekend consists of carpet cleaning, ice packs, choosing paint colors, gauze bandages, and figuring out which cabinet the various beer steins, pint glasses, and pilsner shells will occupy.

More later, as my life returns to normal.