I miss my Bama dog. I miss his annoying bark and how he was always underfoot. I miss his deep stares and the way he cuddled up with me to watch television. I just miss his big dopey butt.
I've been writing like a fiend lately, burning the midnight oil, getting a couple hours of sleep, drinking half a pot of coffee, and going at it again. I'm running out of time. The new perfumery course begins on the 18th of September, and I'm moving in two weeks, so I'm going to miss a week or so of writing time. Crucial writing time. The course has literally one module left to flesh out, then it's on to the teacher's manual, where the meat of the course's potatoes will be.
I'm at a place where I'm missing things to the point of pain. Emotional pain. I miss being able to take good photos with my fancy pants camera (that is packed). I miss working out formulations and experimenting with natural raw materials (that are packed). I miss having space to set things out, to study them, give 'em a good stare and a sniff (because everything's packed!) All of these things were my escape chutes. Ways to get away from the daily stress of unhappy people making certain everyone knows they're unhappy. It's a vicious cycle. They're upset and unhappy, that makes me upset and unhappy, that makes them upset and unhappy, so on and so forth. I just don't know how much more of this sardines-in-a-can life I can take. I feel like my whole life has been put on hold since November because of a damn house! There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but the closer it gets, the farther away it feels.
We blue tape tomorrow. It's the official walk-through where we're instructed how to use the appliances, where the warranty information will be, how the AC works, the on-demand water heater, the communications' hub, how to switch on lights, where the exhaust fan switches are, where to plug in the phones to charge them, the type of tile, carpet, paint, insulation, light fixtures, piping, etc., that they've used in our house. Then we get to go around with rolls of blue tape marking the spots we feel need repair. Wee cracks. Badly patched walls. Ugly tile work. Nicks and dings and scrapes. The last time we checked on the house, there was a big crate of peaches in the fridge, a Klondike ice cream wrapper on the newly carpeted stairs, and an empty bottle of jamaica Jarritos in the kitchen counter. It's a little disconcerting to realize we're not going to be the first people to use the fridge, or the toilets, in this brand new house.
Some strides to make it a home have been made, though. Long ago we put a bunch of towels and bathroom items on layaway, mostly because we had no where to store them until the move. We've ordered and received the living room curtains -- a cream with mauve watercolor flowers for the panels, and cream linen-like sheers. I know I've called the house the Plum Palace, but I'm not looking to go full purple here. Shades of purple are the main color scheme, along with pale greens, soft greys, and creams, with the occasional aubergine and royal purple thrown in. And magenta. And maybe some ox blood. And orange. Ha!