How I'm spending my evenings

Do you know how to code a command button and a list box so that it spits out exactly the record I want? If you do, can you please email me? Like, right now?

I even have another database built by The Computer Guy many eons ago that includes just this code. I copied it into my database, edited all the right parts, and it still doesn't work. What I have accomplished, however, is fixing it up enough to not even give me an error message when it doesn't work out. It's like the code is really fed up with me and is all, "If we give you an error message, it means you invade our privacy and mess around with our syntax and we are so tired of being jumbled around like that."

So anyway. Phillip, on the phone with Puget Sound Energy, instant messaged me to say: Do we have a conversion burner next to our furnace? To which I replied: I barely have a grasp on what "furnace" means, let alone "conversion burner". Apparently Puget Sound Energy is quite adamant that we have a conversion burner as the previous owner at our address had one. And when Phillip asked who the previous owner was, they told him. We just nearly turned off Ethel's gas. I'll let you know if Puget Sound Energy decides to believe us about our house being brand new and having no previous owner, especially not Ethel. I have my doubts.

Last night after work I went directly to Lowe's and purchased a gallon of paint to replace the paint I bought on Saturday. My original can of yellow paint was, upon review by the Elected Board of Paint Choice Affirmation, rejected as being "blisteringly eye-poppingly bright" so I headed back to Lowe's to buy a color called "Yellow Bliss", even though it looks decidedly like old butter to me and not blissful in any way. I've been assured that it will "look yellow" once it's up on the walls, but this remains to be seen.

Further proving the fact that my parents weren't all wrong when they decided to go ahead and have additional children, even after achieving perfection with myself, my two sisters helped me prep last night for this evening's Painting Extravaganza. When faced with umpteen yards of plastic sheeting, one giant roll of blue painter's tape and big empty walls, the Pincus Girls did what any other self-respecting "that's what boys are for" girls would do and stared very very blankly at the floor.

MAGGIE: You've done this before, you show Katie and me what to do.

BECCA: WhatEVER. It's not HARD. GAWD. Give me the TAPE. Quit being such a BABY.

KATIE: ...

MAGGIE: Ok, well do it RIGHT. Inspects Becca's workmanship. There's a big space right there. Fix the big space.

BECCA: Do you WANT my help or NOT.

KATIE: ...

MAGGIE: Katie, cut some plastic for the floor. No, not that way. This way. Wait, that's too much. Except, no. Yeah. That wasn't enough. Do it again.

KATIE: wah.

BECCA: I can't REACH up there. I am a Cute and Petite Little Girl. YOU have to do that part, YOU can REACH. GAWD.

KATIE: like this?

MAGGIE: Shut up. And also, you left a big space. Again.

KATIE: whimper whimper sigh

BECCA: Is there any food?

MAGGIE: We have to do the doors and window too.

KATIE: this is haaaaaaaaaaard!

BECCA: I'm HUNGRY.

Yeah. So it was an awesome time. Becca punctured the plastic with the scissors no less than fourteen times. It took Katie an entire hour to tape the trim on a 10 foot long wall. I had to roll across the floor to get the tape because I didn't want to put weight on my gimpy knee. It also took me an entire hour to tape the trim on a 10 foot long wall because I am ANAL. Exceedingly so. (Hi Becca & Katie! I love you! Kisses!)

However! The sheer exhausting-ness of the Paint Prep has squeezed all potential freakouts out of my system in time for the actual Painting Extravaganza. At this point I no longer really care. Those scuffs on the kitchen cabinets? They're permanent. So begins the slow and reluctant exhalation.