Eddie made me sick.

Not really, but by the time I got home from the show I had a sore throat and felt as if I’d been hit by a bus. Always the queen of denial, I thought — I hoped — that it was just a temporary thing. Not so, says traitorous body. You will be (In Eddie voice) sick. Which I was. Comprehensively. For most of the week. I lay around and sniffed, coughed, sneezed and felt sorry for myself since I couldn’t even sleep properly. Usually that’s one of the only pleasures of getting sick; you can sleep a lot more without guilt. But could I? Noooo.

At some point along the way I had a really ratty day when I decided that it was time to evict my workmen. They had started to seem like bad guests who not only cut off my electricity and water without prior notice, but made a lot of noise, showed up at all hours, left their garbage all over the place and ran up my utility bills. Don’t get me wrong, I love these guys to pieces, but having them around six days a week for the last two months has been a strain on that affection. And while I’d willingly invite them all for Thanksgiving, I cannot wait to see them leave here now. Hey, I know they’ll all be back. Whenever something needs doing, I call this crew.

On Wednesday I felt just well enough to go out to the garage and point at things, and say “Shelf” or “Basement” or occasionally “Apartment.” We went through every box out there, and along the way discovered the mother lode of mouse poop. It was all pretty much in one place like some giant mouse WC, but the good thing is that it was definitely mouse poop, not rat poop. And once I finally got started checking the bird seed and dry food that had been stored on the back porch, I discovered absolutely no evidence that anything had even tried to get into any of it. So Wilson’s assertion that it was a squirrel he saw and my belief that whatever it was didn’t stay long seem even more likely to be true.

On Thursday Jorge moved a metric fucktonne of stuff out of my office and down to the basement. The result is that I’m no longer using my computer in a canyon of boxes. Now I need to get things put away.

And today? Overrun with workmen. Wil, Jose and Enrique are all in and out, carrying lumber, paint, spackle and various power tools. Little Sean is back to do more of the electrical stuff (He’s up in Glinda’s flat right now.) And I need a tissue because my nose will not stop running.

Eh, it’s all good. Except for the nose thing.

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