We had this mad rush to get everything done before closing on the condo, and we managed it, and then we collapsed at Daniel and Anne's when the first purchase fell through, and ever since -- after a few days of exhausted recovery -- I've been in a sort of mental limbo. I can get things done, but only if they're on critical deadline, pretty much. Or if I meet Lori in a cafe. But now Lori is working at her spiffy new job during the week, and school has started, and life is getting busy again, and I really need my brain to start functioning.
So, little house gods, it would be very nice if you could get the sellers and the realtors and the lawyers to start actually talking to us tomorrow so we know what the heck is going on with this home purchase, please. And then maybe I'll be able to think again, hmmm?
I will note that if your brain isn't working either, and you need a well-written and engaging mystery to keep you from going stark raving mad, you could do worse than Josephine Tey. I went to a local bookstore and told them I liked Dorothy Sayers and Agatha Christie, and they recommended Tey, and so far (The Franchise Affair, To Love and Be Wise), she's been awesome.
I've also read at least half a dozen home design/decorating books in the last week, plus a garden book, cover to cover. I now know what color I want half the rooms in my house to be (a light gold in the guest room; mandarin orange in Kavi's room, bone in our master bedroom, dark red and white in the first floor powder room), not to mention what I plan to plant in my garden. (Roses, of course. Plus espaliered fruit trees. I can even tell you the specific varieties.) If I just had a house, or a garden.
I'm now reading Douglas Adams's The Long, Dark Tea-Time of the Soul. And yes, that title rather perfectly reflects my mood of the last month. It's August 30th today; we were supposed to move into our house on July 30th. One month and counting. Argh.