We have an electrician

By some combination of lunar position, solar activity and pure, sheer luck, we have an electrician. In the house. Right now. And he's actually early. Why is this important? Well, (A) he showed up, and as far as I'm concerned, that's a great start, and (B) if he gets the work done today, I may actually be able to move forward with the nursery. Hallelujah.

I must admit, I've been freaking out about this. I've convinced myself that Gina could suddenly go in to labor at any moment and the poor child would arrive home to a half-painted nursery with unassembled furniture and a bare light fixture hanging off the wall, scarring him for life and leaving him with the belief that his father is a negligent half-wit. Nevermind that she's got five weeks to go and the kid could care less whether the walls are all one color -- this is keeping me up at night! According to conventional wisdom I should enjoy my luxurious sleep schedule now, when I can actually get more than three hours in the span of a night. And already the kid is toying with me!

In any event, the electrician will be trying to fish a bunch of wire to the second floor to separate the single circuit that supplies all three rooms plus a first floor washing machine. In the process he'll be installing an outlet and an overhead light in the nursery, and another outlet in the office. This is the rub: There's only one common wall running from the basement to the attic, but it butts up against a stairway and the electrician is concerned about hitting a header beam. No knowing until he gets in there to take a look.

Once that's done, I'll be able to reassemble trim in the nursery, patch any holes, finish painting and assemble the crib so that the kid doesn't hate me in 18 years.