It's no secret around this blog that I cannot STAND my neighbors.
They're nosy; she watches our yard constantly when we have a picnic, and he spies on Mr. KK and me from the shadow of his upstairs window when we're sitting around the chiminea. Oh, and let's not forget how they park their ugly-ass white monstrosity of a caravan in front of OUR house during a snow storm, so that the plows can clear out the space in front of THEIR house.
Oh yes. Saying good-bye to them will be the best thing about moving.
And then. Two weekends ago, as we were cleaning and painting and packing, I watched a huge red dumpster get delivered and dropped right in the middle of my neighbor's driveway.
Because our dear neighbors are putting ANOTHER addition on their house.
Right when we're going to be trying to sell our house.
Prospective buyers will go outside to admire our beautiful yard and be faced with that eyesore. I watch a lot of TV. Whenever someone looks at a house and there's construction going on at a nearby house they always cut to one of those confessionals and the couple saying things like "I like the house, but I'm not sure I could deal with all that construction noise" or "We'd buy this house in a heartbeat, but who wants to live next that racket???"
Every nail the contractors bang in is like a big FU from them.
However, at the right angle, I could throw our attic trash and make it into their dumpster, and save myself some trips down the stairs. They charge you by the weight, right?
Sometimes I like to flatter myself by thinking that when I disappear from my blog for a while, there are those of you out there that miss me. Ponder where I am. Wonder if I fell into a ditch.
If I wrote about everything that's been going on and keeping me away from my blog, it would take me until next Thursday. Then I'd miss Labor Day weekend, hurricane Earl and a fun weekend of putting in a new kitchen floor. (You should be wishing I would take a video of me and Mr. KK putting in a new floor. It would be an instant YouTube classic).
The big news is: I made my first placement at my job. That means I have earned money to get my very first commission check. Just think: I only have to place a million more candidates to be at the salary I earned at my last crazy job. But between you, me, the wall and the information highway, I'll take better hours, no stress and work-free weekends over a fat paycheck any day of the week and twice on Sunday. I don't even have my work email on my phone yet. Ignorance truly IS bliss.
I'm also a little crazed because not only are we renovating a house to move INTO, but we're also sprucing up a house to move OUT OF. That includes, but is not limited to:
• Painting the exterior of the house. We hired people for this. In the process, I got myself a stalker. A painter stalker, who accused me of calling him repeatedly and having a boat. He actually said to me: "Yes! You have a boat!" Seriously? I think I would know if I owned a marine vehicle.
• Updating the kitchen. This means kk painting all of the cabinets, and Mr. kk ripping up the shitty linoleum floor. And we found hardwood floors underneath! And they couldn't be refinished! So now we're back to putting down an ugly-ass floor again!
• Making the upstairs linen closet "presentable".
Mr KK: "See how good this looks? Why wasn't this closet like this the whole time we lived here?"
KK: "Bite me."
• Emptying and removing Mr. KK'sarmoire of clothes. And then putting his clothes in MY closet. And putting MY clothes in cardboard, portable "closets", because his clothes are too long to fit.
• Cleaning out the basement so it "looks bigger". It's a basement. There's supposed to be spiders and dirt and crap you don't use.
This is the last weekend of doing work before putting the house on the market.
Everyone please bury a St. Joseph statue in your yard and pray for a quick sell.