The roof is half-installed. I've got the felt paper up and gooped, now I just need to roll on the final layer nail it up and tar any holes and I'll be done. Of course, being done doesn't mean I haven't done a horrible job and will be all wet, but I will have made the attempt. Then I will just call a roofer, I spose. Just out a couple hundred bucks and many back-breaking hours of labor, but wtf-else does my laid-off ass have to do?

I am on my lunch break, finishing the last of my veg-soup accompanied by a turkey samich. I am watching way too much Megan Mullaley. I didn't even like Will & Grace, so I'm not sure how it happened. She's just in this slot where I happen to be near the TV.

We have cleared all fallen trees, and I am crossing my fingers that the garbage men or someone will take the big pile of them from my front lawn. All I need is another couple tons of garbage...

K, peeps, back to that wonderful view.

I have become, to my amazement, a somewhat decent painter. Not in the portrait kind of painter way, but in the paint-stained guy on a ladder kind of way. I've been drawing near-straight lines all over the place: the ceiling, above the baseboard, etc. I've even started holding the brush like a pro, kinda nestled between thumb and forefinger like a pencil, the handle used solely for balance. And now...now, my hand hurts. But I have near-straight lines all over the place, and it's all worth it. Hopefully tomorrow is the last day of painting this year. Upstairs can wait till next year.

I actually emailed some friends today, which is amazingly rare. I have a communication problem. Basically, if I don't see you in person, I don't talk to you much. I just can't seem to get myself to actually do it. I put it off and off and off... My mother called on my birthday and I still haven't called her. She'll probably read this too (and if you do, thanks and I love ya) and think I have time for blogging but not for calling. Which, in a way, is true. Phones are my kryptonite. Especially cell phones. I didn't like phones when I could hear people fine, and now that they cut out and the battery runs low and you lose the damn things everywhere, I positively hate them. In fact, my phone was stolen about two months ago and I just haven't got a new one yet. Yup, that's right, I'm an American without a phone <gasp>. So anyways my friends will hopefully be happy to receive my semi-longish email, and I will be off the hook for another year or two <phew>.

Now it is time to nestle back with my 40, proper!

sidenote: I always have the urge to end with some time of salutation (is that correct here or is that just hello and not goodbye?). Like, cya fellas, or ciao, or till next time... are you a real person, audience? Do I need to say goodbye to you?