Tag Archives: construction

Black Coffee In Bed.

Our ground floor is a construction site. Sort of. A group of men came in, demolished two thirds of the floor, ripped out our kitchen, and then completely disappeared. It has been two weeks since I have seen anyone working. They tell me this is normal. But enough about that.

I have long been wanting a coffee maker in my bedroom. I do not like waking up and having to work out how best to passive-aggressively ask M to go downstairs and make me a cup of coffee. (M can shower, get dressed and do all sorts of things without the assistance of caffeine, but I cannot.) Now that our kitchen is basically a hot plate and a kettle — which cannot be used simultaneously lest the entire room lose power — I had good reason to move the machine upstairs.

I don’t know what took me so long! Now I can drink black coffee (the cheaper the better) before I have to talk to anyone, before I have to take more than 20 steps. I may have to plug the Crock Pot in outside (more on that later) and keep the toaster in the bathroom (who doesn’t want to eat a bagel on the toilet?), but I do it all while very well caffeinated.

Given that we may not have a kitchen until mid-2020, I am going to need all the coffee I can get.

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Everything Must Go (Or, why it pays to have a pogrom in your DNA.)

After months of waiting, crying in the building department, and all but offering myself up to the gods of Yonkers (because, surely there is more than one), we finally got our construction permit. Still, we weren’t starting anytime soon. Our contractor told us we’d have to wait a few weeks while he finished up the job he took when we got delayed.

And then, in a text, he told us he could start in 48 hours. (I’m trying to ignore the nagging feeling that this guy may not have been the best choice, but I’m keeping that to myself for now.)

Here’s what I learned:

1. It helps to have a pogrom (or three) in your DNA. Polish ancestry means one thing if you’re Jewish: You can pack in a flash, even when there aren’t Cossacks at the door. As I used my great-grandmother’s linen tablecloths to wrap my dishes (once the newspaper ran out), I had enough time to hum the entire score of Fiddler. Good times.

2. Jet lag is AWESOME when you have stuff to do! Turns out, keeping my watch on NY time during our trip may have kept me awake the entire time, but it didn’t ensure that I’d come home on local time. (Who knew?) So, I hopped out of bed at 3.45 AM and got cracking on packing the kitchen and tossing anything that does not bring me pleasure. (This was a good thing. Because M is no fan of throwing out anything and believes this whole de-cluttering movement is nothing more than an excuse to buy more shit, I usually have to toss things under cover of darkness.)

3. I was put on this earth to answer the question: How many glass jars can one person own?

4. I apparently also have a thing for egg cups.

5. M has a thing for free water bottles. The shittier the bottle, the more we have. If you happen to need one, there will be a box of them in front of our house as of 4AM. (shhh.)

I’ve been awake for over a week and I have miles to go.

If Marie Kondo calls, I’ll be throwing out egg cups.

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