This is it – I’m there. I’ve hit the limit of what I can tolerate. The new kitchen is nearly done – just painting, window treatments, and tiling left to go, and I can do that myself. But somehow in the renovation process I have completely lost control of my home. I can’t find ANYTHING! I’m trying to do laundry this morning, but there are power tools all over the folding table and every single freakin‘ laundry basket is full of books. My living room furniture is all shoved into the middle of the room, there are file cabinets in the old kitchen, my dining room table is covered with computer stuff, and I can’t find a pair of shoes that match. I also can’t find the dog treats, so Sam is pouting on the sofa – I won’t be getting any puppy snuggles until I find that box of Milkbones, that much is clear. And Mark will be here any minute to disassemble the pool table in the basement, so just staying in my jammies and drinking sweet tea until things get better isn’t an option. Evidently our next-door neighbor wants the pool table, which thrills me to no end. They weren’t living next door several years ago when Jack was about two and took the opportunity while I was switching over laundry to poop in his diaper, take it off, roll a pool ball in it, and then roll the pool ball all over the lovely green felt of the pool table. Really, what kid does that? I’ve NEVER heard of another kid doing that. If it ever happens to you, by the way, the secret is Fantastic, a white cotton cloth, and PAT, DON’T RUB. Anyway, I’ve never felt as much affection for the pool table since then. I’d post a picture of the soon-to-be-disassembled pool table, but of course I can’t find my camera. Michael just came in and told me we have no hot water for some unknown reason – fabulous. I think I need chocolate – lots of chocolate.