I started the day with an athletic conditioning class at the city gym. I had never taken athletic conditioning before and I was a little apprehensive. Turns out it's just like going back to gym class. We started with two laps of the basketball gym, and other cardio activities like jump roping, and holy shit, that was just the warm up. Then we rotated between different stations; lifting weights or lunging or jumping onto things or running up and down the stairs. Another torture cardio stint in the gym and then another circuit of the stations. I was DYING. I guess my thrice-weekly death march on the stairmaster hasn't been as beneficial as I thought.
I dropped Seamus at the orthodontist and ran a load of wet clothes up to the laundromat (our dryer is still broken) and picked up a replacement electrical plug at Meadowbook Hardware. The braces were off by this time and I showed Seamus how to replace a an appliance plug. This was for this fantastic vintage box fan I bought at The Gilded Flea in Harper's Ferry, where we spent the weekend with our dear friends. It is intended for Seamus' bedroom, and the new plug is perfect.
|The logo says "Frosti-aire" Check the boss on/off toggle.|
Someone named "Elaine Knight" labeled the top of the fan with her label maker.
We were expecting Jon's brother and his wife and kids for dinner. The last time they came to our house was the disastrous dinner party at which we ruined every single dish. I was determined that this dinner be a success, so Seamus and I settled on homemade pizzas for dinner, which I can make in my sleep. (Actually, Seamus made the pizzas for this party.) I went into CLEAN ALL THE THINGS mode and moved the stove so as to clean behind and under it, and scrubbed toilets and washed the kitchen floor and changed the sheets on my bed and vacuumed and scrubbed sinks and paid the bills and performed the financial gymnastics necessary to pay the college tuition and did all the other things I wouldn't want to waste time on over a weekend.
I tried to work on my skirt--it was my goal to get the zipper sewed in, but the instructions are incomprehensible. This isn't my first time at the rodeo, people, and I might just sew in the zipper the way that I know, because Amy Butler's method is needlessly complicated. I also read over sixty pages of The Mystery of Edwin Drood because the only way to deal with this book is to power through it. And then it was back to the orthodontist to get Seamus' retainer.
The dinner was delicious and not a catastrophe like last time and Phoebe only disgraced herself once. It's almost a relief to go back to work today so I can rest.