She drives them right round, baby, right round

Like a record baby, right round round round ...

And welcome to the weekend wrap-up report, where I fill you in on my first week as the world's only Homeless Housewife^TM.
A week ago the Russian army showed up at my house and ripped out the kitchen and a bathroom. Because this would leave our house uninhabitable, my family and I moved to Chicago. My job, therefore, is to drive the kids to Newtopia every morning and drop them off at school. Then I kill time in various ways until it's time to pick them up and bring them back to Chicago.

I drop by my house every day to pick up the mail, check messages, talk to the workmen, and pick up something that my husband or kids (or sometimes--gasp!--I) left behind.

This leaves me with about six more hours to kill.

I go to the gym pretty much every day. Sooner or later I'm going to get my ass into the pool and swim some laps, but mostly I'm spending an hour at a time on the treadmill. I listen to an audiobook while I plod towards nowhere, so the time goes by fairly painlessly. I eat lunch there, too.

If I need the internet, I can brave the workmen and go up into my study at my house, use the public library, or haul my laptop with me and go to a cafe with wireless access. This is too complicated, so I'm spending waaaay less time on the internet. It's just like I'm traveling! To Paris! Except I'm at home. Sort of.

I also do stuff like visit tile showrooms, toilet showrooms, and lighting stores that sell beautifully-restored antique chandeliers. This takes an amazing amount of time. And energy.

So Internet, I have a piece of advice for you. If you are easily overwhelmed by sensory stimuli--if you are the sort of person who has difficulty deciding what color to paint the living room walls, do not go to Home Expo--or any other big block store. Even the little tiny tile stores where the tiles are artisanal and crafty and hand patted by blind Portuguese nuns--even those stores are out to get you. Yes, they are. Those cute little stores live to daze and confuse you. And the big stores want to saw off the top of your head, remove your brain, place it in a multi-layered DisneyWorld snow globe, and shake the shit out of it.

Poppy's brain

Poppy's brain on Home Renovations

Accordingly, much against my will, I'm going to become an amateur interior decorator. Unpaid interior decorating will join my other unpaid hobbies, such as singing in a church choir, blogging, having children, and driving them to school.

In each and every case, you get what you pay for, so don't come whining to me if my choir, blog, children, driving, and renovated bathrooms suck. out. loud.

I'm just sayin'.