TO QOTD LabRat in her whine of the other day, (I really love this turn of phrase, too):
Good fucking god it’s been a long weekend, and not in the nice, lying-around-with-a-drink-and-a-book kind of way.
And doesn’t lying around all weekend with a drink and a book sound just SO delightful?
Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen!
Why not? You do it all the time.
Except for I don’t drink.
Well. There is that. And thank God, too. You drunk is one scary notion.
Swennyways. Saturday, I did the groceries. As usual, it wiped me. (Isn’t that a Van Morrison song?) Sunday, I moved the phone and bumped the dimmer/switch box out from the wall so it’ll poke through the back of the bookcase, there. Then I cut and nailed the batten/ledger boards up to the wall.
The boo-boo in the drywall is from where Alger proved he can’t handle more than two variables at once. The addition of the shift for that switch plate just flummoxed him and the left end of that board ended up in the space another board is going to go. In the process of prying the misplaced board loose with a catclaw, he managed to ding the drywall up pretty good.
Et tu, Dolly? Telling tales out of school?
Can’t. I’m not in school.
Exactly. So pretty much any tale you tell is — by definition — out of school in its out-of-something-ness.
Then, Monday, I ripped the last of the boards, cleaned up edges with the router, and hot-glued the edge banding on almost all of the boards. I ran out.
And thereby hangs an out-of-school tale…
Dolly! I’m warning you!
What? that you can’t read? Or you can’t count?
I’m bad at estimating anything, even if it’s labeled. Happy?
More meta- than ec-, I’d say.
So Tuesday after work, I’ll run by the Home Despot and pick up some more edge band veneer. Should be able to drill and start finish-coating everything this weekend.
Famous last words.