Chores

I don’t know why this wasn’t pub­lished a cou­ple of days ago. The new ver­sion of WordPress has some weird bugs in it.

Life at home this week has been a flur­ry of task-drag­on slay­ing. Every Thursday I clean a bit of the shed out back, pil­ing up tow­ers of junk on the curb for scrap­pers and the fan­tas­tic Cleveland Waste Management fel­lows to take care of. I’ve been clean­ing and prepar­ing the up­stairs unit for a ten­ant, which re­sults in mul­ti­ple bike trips to Home Depot each night. I’ve been tag­ging some of my per­son­al junk for a yard sale I’m go­ing to have On May 24th. I had an idea to make it a Punk Rock Flea Market in hon­or of Punk Rock Softball, which I’m go­ing to have to miss this week­end. It’d be sweet to have a bunch of Cleveland rock­ers show up and browse each other’s in­die crap they don’t want any­more. Grills and beers and in­for­mal­i­ty.

Sorting through all of the stuff up­stairs has been an ad­ven­ture, and it will be nice when the sec­ond half of the down­stairs is com­plete, so that Debbie and I can arrange our stuff in some sem­blance of fi­nal­i­ty. It’d be nice to have space for the kid when he shows up too. There’s a ton of work that needs to hap­pen there in prepa­ra­tion as well. I’m wait­ing un­til af­ter the ba­by show­er to ramp that up.

There’s so much go­ing on, and I feel pulled in so many di­rec­tions, that I’m al­most shack­led by in­de­ci­sion. Back to work.