Tempered Bliss

OK, ok. If anyone actually came back after the cheese factor, I thank you. And as a matter of clarification, no one needs to worry that I have a serious case of Andrew-fever... I can assure you my happiness is like unto the reunion of the prodigal son with his grieving father, though I'm not sure if I were father or son in this case. Anyway, (and on a totally unrelated note) I'm still not dating, and I'm still blissfully happy about it. But I will tell you if cute-boy-who-made-me-lose-my-train-of-thought asks me out, I'm back on the market. Keep those fingers crossed for me, will ya? And let's hope it happens sooner rather than later, so I can take Shania Twain's "No one needs to know right now" off repeat in my car (I can't believe I just admitted that, but you know me-- no secrets, for better or worse).
Things here are still very good on the whole. The house was on hold for a week or so, but things should pick up again this week. The metal roofing materials and pellet stove are both being delivered on Monday, so it will be nice to see a few more cosmetic (though thoroughly necessary) changes.
And I'm getting to the point where I really do look forward to living on my own again. There are certain hazards associated with a home office. Like when you don't get home until 1:30 a.m., and your father wakes you up at 6 a.m. on Saturday morning to do some paperwork for him. OK, first of all, SATURDAY. 6 A.M.! And did I mention he gave me this paperwork at about 4:45 p.m. yesterday afternoon, while I was still buried in invoicing and was trying to get ready to go out? Seriously. It was putting names on folders, but really. So after about 10 minutes of work, I tried to go back to bed, but my father, who insisted he HAD to have those folders done right that moment, was on the treadmill in the next room and it was super loud. I finally nodded off for a little while when my mom put my dog in my bed. No biggie, except about an hour later, my brother came in and tried to get the dog to attack me (it backfired... she just barked enough that I figured I might as well get up anyway). But thank heavens my little brother is getting married. He uncerimoniously announced yesterday that he is moving to his future home today. He's been saying this for so long that no one really believed him, but sure enough, he just pulled his old mattress out and knocked over my mother's creche, and decapitated poor Joseph in the process. So my fingers are sticky from gluing a family heirloom back together, but I think Joseph looks pretty good considering his traumatic experience. Let's hope I will still look as good when I move out in a few months, given my own traumatic experiences around this joint. But I promise, I'm not unhappy. Just a little sleep deprived. But it's ok. I've got fun plans for tonight, and somehow that makes everything funny instead of bad.