Quarters in the Jar

To snark, it will cost you a quarter...unless it's true.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Let's build something together

Or, I have an even better idea! Let's not build something ourselves, but hire it done and tell everyone that we did it ourselves. But then I wouldn't have anything to write about today. For those of you who don't know, my husband and I thought we would use the three day weekend to retile our back hallway. Notice that I am writing this on Thursday. We are not done. I don't think we are too terribly close to being done either. My washer and dryer are in my kitchen. It all started when we ripped up the sticky tiles from the floor. There was an unidentified stain underneath. I'm not talking about a teeny-tiny stain. I'm talking about a Hey didn't I see something like this on Forensic Files stain? We determined it was not blood and moved on. Then, we thought... Let's rip out the walls because they are out of square and warped. That shouldn't take too awfully long, right? So the walls have been replaced, and we are laying the tile. The washer and dryer should be out of the kitchen by this time next week. Anyone want to go to the laundromat with me? No takers? Too bad because I would have bought you an Enquirer to read while we were there. Now I know what you are thinking. This is supposed to be a teacher blog. Not Frau complaining about all the hard work she is doing at home. Doing this job has taken me back to a huge (actually epic is a better word) argument I had with my ex-brother-in-law. He tried to tell me once that laborers work harder than teachers, and I totally got all red faced and told him what for. I just knew that teachers work wayyyy harder. Today, I'm not so sure because I am TIRED. Physically, I am soft compared to construction workers. I know I don't lift and carry things all day like they do. The math involved in any construction is not easy. However, they don't manage the education of 24 beavers (some not so eager). Maybe, just maybe, we work equally hard. Just in different ways. Dang it. I hate to admit when I'm wrong.


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