It’s the Final Countdown!

Dear Reader, the time has finally, finally come…after 352 days, we will move back into our old/new house on JULY 10TH.

A recap of the week thus far:

Monday

A compromised and painfully ethically-challenged majority of the Supreme Court upended the Constitution and strained credulity in order to declare Donald Trump above the law. I did not mean to build my new house in the future Christo-fascist Kingdom of West Trumplandia, so I spend the day mostly despondent and deeply worried about the future. I think about my dad, a Vietnam veteran, who was so upset on January 6th that he threw up repeatedly, and I experience a rare, painful flicker of happiness that he’s not alive to see this shit.

[In all seriousness, please please do not vote for this horror show of a human being. He is an actual monster - and a Trojan horse for other, smarter, more worrisome monsters - and the fact that this country did not learn this lesson the first time around is dispiriting to say the least. I’m looking at you, my fellow white women. Let’s not fuck this up again.]

Tuesday

After five hours of restless, hot-garbage sleep, I decide that the sensible thing to do is to drive to the Project and assemble two 7.5’ garage shelving units in my driveway, by myself, at 7 a.m. As a reminder, I am 5’ tall. Around 8 a.m. our GC - at least 6’2” - arrives and takes pity on me, as I have constructed half of one unit upside down.

We get to chatting, and it turns out that planning and building inspections will happen on Wednesday, floor finishing on Saturday, and PG&E hookup on Tuesday. Huzzah!

Later in the day - still horrified and spinning on the fragility of democratic norms - I reluctantly experience fleeting joy when I see that the construction fence is down and that my backyard now has grass again. I’m only human.

I then spend the evening loading the aforementioned shelves while wearing a Biden-Harris 2020 t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, despite the (climate-change driven) heat wave. After five trips back and forth between the rental garage and the home garage, I treat myself to a large glass of something called Pool Boy Rosé and buy myself two Biden-Harris 2024 t-shirts online.

Please don’t vote for Donald Trump.