And on the 12th day she drank.

Happy Monday, campers! You will be happy to know that I survived the weekend with nothing worse than a tough case of baseboarder’s butt. Who knew that the muscles used to install wood trim, had previously been unused since my extreme skiing days. Oh wait, I totally made up the extreme skiing. That explains a lot.

Gail will be pleased to know that Homer also came through unscathed. To say the least. That man is a woodworking machine. He can sand, stain, finish, sand, finish, sand…. forever! Sun up to sun down and beyond if he turns on the lights. Jane! isn’t quite so dedicated. Although I did get the baseboard installed on the biggest wall in the Mancave and I textured the last of three walls, I can’t say that I am in danger of being recruited for Extreme Makeover Home Edition. Frankly, I don’t know what the hurry is.

I also had a bit of an attention problem on Saturday. That’s common when I’m afraid to get started on something– to make the first cut in this case. I put a lot of pressure on myself not to screw up. After about the third time Homer caught me off task, he commented that when we started this project, he didn’t realize that ‘working on it together’ meant that he would work and I would watch him work. Pfftht. He better not get me started in that battle because he will go down faster than our 401k.

Sunday I did better. Probably because Homer went skiing so I didn’t have anyone to watch. Of course our little overachiever still had to sneak in a topcoat before church and like FOUR hours of sanding after skiing. Show off. Well, some of us did 8 loads of laundry, cleaned the house, walked and washed the dog and shampooed the stairs carpet!! Not to mention the 57 clocks I had to spring forward! It’s not all about remodeling, buster! Home improvement comes in other forms, you know!

Speaking of springing forward, last year the Daylight Savings time transition hit me so hard and lasted so long that I vowed to better prepare myself this year. I mentally moved my clock forward on Friday night. I KNOW, genius, huh? I got up a bit earlier than usual on Saturday with the intention of going to bed earlier on Saturday, thus easing the pain of Monday morning. Only I stayed up 2 hours later than usual on Saturday night. And I slept 2 hours later on Sunday. Oops. I’m still not sure how that happened. I can’t even blame the usual suspect, Mr. Internet, because I hardly even cracked the laptop the whole weekend. Anyway, it was more of a ‘dragged forward’ or maybe ‘shoved forward’. Definitely no springing here. (PS if you have something to say about DST - go here and find out how you can win a cute, sassy clock.)

Oh, the Mancave pictures I promised? Yeah, well, they’re somewhere. In the camera, probably. Which I guess is on Junie’s desk or maybe Kat’s. Crap, I don’t know.

Oh, here’s something to distract you from my unfulfilled promises – another unfulfilled promise. I fell off the Lenten wagon. Willfully and purposely, I drank a big ole Gulp (as in the 492 oz. kind) of Diet Dew on Sunday. That’s probably why I got so much done. Hey, a woman can only remain unproductive for so long.