I did it. I survived my first day of real work. I even had fun. I was on time. I curled my hair. It didn't look like it, but I did. I learned lots of new stuff about the French revolution and skills required for being a shelf stocker. I played a lot of Go Fish. I went shopping for real food with fake money. And then I came home and I canned 6 quarts of applesauce, made chicken enchiladas for dinner with some friends, and fresh apple crisp, and I kept right on going until This Very Minute. Josh is still going, finishing up the half-cleaned kitchen after he spent the whole day working on the house. I did a load of dishes and put most of the food away, and then I quit.
Truck is busily hairing every surface that I vacuumed as soon as I got home from work, and Dagny is recovering emotionally from the abandonment she endured when her new ball-throwing friend Brian left her to go home with his family. I have something on my toe that hurts, which some people have told me may be a corn, but that makes me feel old, so I am just calling it a broken toe joint.
Josh drywalled the west half of the living room today, and cut out the doorway under the stairs for my new pantry, and stuff. It looks much bigger and brighter in here. I am getting more and more excited to see the end result of this remodel - excitement which I must place carefully to avoid making Josh feel like I am pressuring him discontentedly or I am ungrateful for the good, fast work he is doing. I don't want him to think that he should be working any faster - Lord knows I have only finished emptying about 1/5th of the wine bottles I need for my new chandelier. You just can't rush quality work. Like that book I am always still working on.
I am tired. In a good, productive, I did something with my day, way. I made applesauce AND money. Maybe not much, but some, of each. I am really happy to go to bed tonight with a sore back and a sore broken toe joint and a chili-pepper burn underneath one fingernail. I will dream about all of the things I will do tomorrow, and the next day. Including taking Aspen for a make-up Irish dance lesson, and probably supervising Josh in some interior design work this weekend, and maybe adopting a kitten. But you guys, I got a job. And there isn't a centimeter of wood paneling showing in my living room anymore. BAM!