Housing

It was a nice day to be outside. The sun was shining, not too brightly, the clouds were floating up in the sky like tufts of cotton, and the weeds were taking over the landscaping like they were on steroids. Then the neighbor called.

"My irrigation system isn't working!" she sobbed. "I've turned on the water, but it just sprays out the pipe on the side of the house, and I'm afraid of being washed away in the ensuing flood!"¹

We immediately ² sprang to her assistance, seeking to discover the source of the problem. It was relatively easy: the draincocks were still open on the pressure relief valve, allowing all the water to simply spill onto the ground. So a simple application of torque using my handy-dandy screwdriver solved it. As a reward for our help, she gave us a tour of her house.

And what a house!

Everything so neat, so tidy, so orderly. This particular neighbor is an interior decorator by trade, so naturally everything looked wonderful. She's also lately completed some fundamental work on her basement, with walls and fixtures and cabinets installed, and has most of the painting done. It's simply waiting for some additional touch-up work ... and the flooring. There was an incredible amount of airness, roominess; the light shining through the big picture windows high above the fireplace mantel lit up the living room and gave everything a warm, cozy glow.

It was quite disheartening to walk back to our house and down into our basement and look around at the clutter, the debris, the lack-of-doneness that is the hallmark of someone too busy to work on it. Massive guilt dropped like a stone on my head. it made me want to move into a closet and write sad songs about dying of consumption.³

To try and cheer myself up, I started working on catching up with all the office-related tasks which had piled up in my absence (reviewing and updating schedules, budgets, planning documents, etc.), with a break here and there to play Heroscape with Adam⁴ and eat an occasional snack.⁵

Later on tonight, I hope to play my guitar and come up with an appropriate tune entitled, "Our House May Not Be Done Yet, But At Least The Cats Are Well-Fed."<sup>6

1</sup>Not her actual words. I'm paraphrasing.
²After lunch. About an hour later.
³Or being eaten by weevils.
⁴I lost.
⁵A healthy snack, of course.
⁶Very well-fed.