Week Twenty Two...

 I've been back to work for a month now and it's been physically exhausting. While I am mostly healed from the surgery, every now and then I am reminded that I'm missing a third of my guts and I need to sit down for a breather. My knees have been acting up as well, so I've had to incorporate my PT routine into my before bed ritual. That being said, I am still grabbing every bit of OT I can.

Dog meds don't pay for themselves. Neither does an additional half bath.

I may have mentioned that Hubs is against the half bath addition in the basement once or twice, or six hundred times. With that in mind, I'm picking away at small things, mainly using up remnants of old projects and free finds to keep costs low. Every day after work I've knocked out a bit.  A wall up here, studs cut to fit there, drywall around the built in bookshelves.  It has a LONG way to go, but I can see it happen. The square footage is a weird layout of roughly 80 square feet.  Somewhere mid-week I realized that if I swung the washer and dryer from their original location to the side, it would enable the new layout to work in 60 square feet instead of the originally planned 20. 

Me: So I've been thinking... just hear me out.

Him: Oh God...

Me: No, seriously.  If I swing the washer dryer to this wall then we have all *this* space to work the toilet/sink layout. I measured it, it will fit with six inches to spare.  I just lose some access to the lower shelves, but I can make that up with upper cabinets.

Him: What about the plugs? Hoses? It's all got to be moved.

Me: Yeah. It's a ton of work, but the dryer vent is already over there.  I moved the dryer vent 17 years ago through the window, but now if I move it back, I can put the window back in. And they sell ten foot washer hoses and drains, so it's like $50 worth of stuff.

Him: No. It's too much work.  You're not moving 220 volts. That's crazy.

Me: *raises eyebrow*

Him: *rolls eyes* Whatever, you're gonna do what you want anyways.

Damn straight I will. 

I waited a day or two for him to leave for a golf tournament. I flipped the breaker for the dryer, reran all the electrical cable, reattached the outlet in it's new location.  I re-ran new venting to the old vent, fixed the flap so it would swing freely. I only hit my finger with the hammer once. I muscled the dryer into place and continued on with my 7th load of laundry for the day. A few hours before I had driven to the city to drop some things off for Oldest. While at breakfast he had mentioned there was no way I could do all that by myself. I can't just go lifting all that heavy stuff without a man... what would I do when I'm 70? You gonna be moving dryers and stuff all on your own?

I snapped a picture to send to him. Can't do it all my ass...

I disconnected the other venting for the dryer, pulled the wood out of the window frame and replaced the glass. Hubs returned from golfing. He assessed the situation, using his best judge-y face.

Him: You sure the washer's going to fit over there?

Me: Yes, with 6 inches extra.

Him: At what point are you going to call a plumber?

Me: Once I get the toilet and sink. Are you getting on board with this now?

Him No. I still think you're crazy.

A special kind of crazy indeed.