First World Problems

It's been a crazy-ass week, and it's only Wednesday. I've been busy lining stuff up for next Monday's release of A Matter of Death and trying to finish writing the next Bloodlines novella, Reality Bites.

Monday, DH made arrangements with a shipping company to transport our Corvette from Texas to Ohio. They didn't have a truck available until next month, so no problem, right? We needed to get through the rest of the boxes still sitting in the second garage.

But on the heels of that phone call, the security consultant doing the background check GK before he ships off to boot camp is on her way to interview DH and talk to our complex manager. She wanted to talk to a neighbor, but all the grad students on our floor moved out in May, and all new people moved in a couple of weeks ago.

In the meantime, I'm running around like a crazy person with first quarter follow-ups with my medical personnel. Oh, and our rent check disappeared somewhere between me putting it in the office door slot back on June 21st and the assistant manager arriving the following morning.

Tuesday morning, the shipping company calls. Hey, we have a truck available! It's at your friend's garage to pick your car NOW! And it'll be in Ohio on Thursday.

Remember those boxes in the garage here? Yeah, last night the three of us were scrambling to deal with them. But it's so frickin' hot and humid, we only managed about a third of the work.

This morning, the truck driver himself called DH. He's making good time and should arrive by 7 p.m.

Since the car is an antique and we have it insured as such, we have to have a garage to put it in. Which means the first garage where DH's car is because it has a leak where the new windshield was put in years ago. So we're crossing our fingers that it doesn't rain for the next couple of days while we finish cleaning out the boxes.

But it's hot, so I'll keep writing until it cools down a bit for the evening...