Before demolition, 1.17

What we wound up with, 1.20

Drywall in place (the dark patch is just one sheet hung upside-down), 1.24

Postcards From The Beltway. Somebody upstairs always knows when I have a meeting at work to attend, because they schedule an accident on the beltway for those days. Here are some brief notes from my hour-long commute this morning:

To the woman in the red Kia minivan: Your lack of purchasing intelligence is evident in your choice of vehicle, but you showed how ignorant you truly are when the shrieking, flashing, honking ambulance pulled up directly behind you (and beside me) and you sat there like a hump without pulling into the breakdown lane. Nice going.

To the man in the Boxster with the dog: Thank you for the belly laugh you and your puppy gave me while I sat waiting. There’s nothing funnier than the beautiful lines of a German sportscar interrupted by the homely face of a panting english bulldog hanging out the window.

Finally, to the brain surgeon in the Jeep who passed us all in the breakdown lane with your hazards on: Many times I’ve cursed people like you, who feel that their need to get to the dentist’s appointment, bingo parlor, or afternoon quickie supercedes everybody else’s. Not content to just drive illegally on the left shoulder, usually you’re doing mach 5 while yammering on your cellphone. Many times, I’ve wished I was an unmarked State Trooper with a big D.I. hat and an even bigger citation booklet, so that I could pull your ass over and tow your car away. Today, I got a front-row seat to watch you get stopped by that very cop. SWEET REVENGE! I think the best part about it was the fact that you looked pissed. Have a nice day, jackass.