Counter-productive

Did you know that kids get sick, like, every 3.5 days? Because they do. And as a relatively new parent, I somehow wasn't aware of this fact. They pick up ailments like postmen pick up mail. It's like they have this mailbox for germs, only the flag is up at all times, saying, "Hey, germs! Stop here! I’ve got something for you!" And kids being kids, they're all like, "Cool! I've got a mailbox full of germs! Wait 'til I show dad!" And suddenly, everyone in the house is sick.

Yeah, it's been a fun week here at Casa de Illness: a screaming kid, a whining dad, and a mom who needs to deal with these two grumps while maintaining her sanity and guzzling Dextromethorphin. Oh, and we're still doing dishes in the bathroom sink.

But. BUT! There's been progress. I have pictures. Those pictures include a counter and a vent hood.

What the pictures don't show is how the vent hood is slightly crooked thanks to the slight slope in our ceiling. Ah, aren't old houses fun!? I'm sure if a professional did this, they would've actually leveled the ceiling. But me? Nah. Just put some sheetrock up and be done with it. And now we have a slightly crooked vent hood. Sigh. But it works and it hasn't fallen down yet, and friends, lemme tell you, that in and of itself is something to be thankful for. Needless to say, that sucker was a bitch to hang -- and I did it with a 102-degree fever.

Oh, and the pendant lights are at different levels for testing purposes; I'm not that off-kilter.

At this point I'm chasing after the plumber and the gas company to try and tie up those two loose ends so that we can actually get running water and a functioning cooktop. However, the plumber and the gas company seem to have consensually lost their hearing, ignoring as they are my repeated phone messages that, hey, we have a kitchen to finish over here! If I don't get a response this week, I'm looking elsewhere.

Side note to contractors: Why do you have such an aversion to calling and saying, "Hey, I can't do your job! I'm too busy! Sorry!" The I'm-simply-not-going-to-respond approach is so very, very high school, like ignoring that cute girl that's been giving you googely-eyes from the next lunch table. Seriously, don't leave me hanging, just tell me you CAN'T DO IT? Not so hard, right?