Friday afternoon, I decided that what I wanted to do was go to the beach. San Diego is only about 5 hours from here by car, and it's roughly 40* cooler there, it seemed like the best idea ever.
Steady did not agree. He was more concerned about the parts involving finding a suitable hotel, driving across the desert at night and how much this would cost. So, we didn't go and I spent Friday night pouting about it.
Saturday morning, I was bitten by the productivity bug. Before eleven am I'd managed to get my oil changed. When Steady woke up at noon, I started harassing him for a plan. We decided to get our cars washed, inside and out since they were both filthy.
It took us 45 minutes to get the garbage out and that which is not garbage upstairs and into our apartment. I managed to top off both garbage cans and I was just going for "I don't want anyone to laugh at me" levels of garbage-less-ness.
It took more than two hours for my car to get washed. It had to be buffed too, because it really, really needed it. Steady stopped for lunch on his way in, I was 90 pages into my magazine when he showed up. His car only took like an hour.
So, the car is like a different place now. It's really, really immaculate. I took it in to be washed a couple months ago and had the inside done then too, but clearly it needed more work than one session could provide.
Then when we got home we played eighteen more rounds of We Can't Communicate About Space. We often think we're talking about the same thing and then when it comes time to execute it, we are not at all. Or else we'll spend ten minutes bickering before figuring out we are talking about precisely the same thing. It's fun for everyone.
We also got to play Let's See If We Can Get the House Cleaned Before Someone Snaps and There is Tragic Death. We did both survive, the yelling was kept to a minimum, but there was plenty of heavy sighing and tongue biting so forceful you could hear it across the room.
We ended up going out with some people last night. Steady was the more drunk one for once and it was very amusing.
Then this morning (by which I mean at like one in the afternoon), the phone rang. Steady's grandparents are coming over to pick up the couch that we've decided against because AmVets will be at their house this week to pick up a bunch of other stuff. (I feel very badly about this since they did just bring the couch all the way over here six weeks ago. I am not sure why they are picking it up in order to donate it and not just leaving us to donate it ourselves, but it is awfully nice of them.)
We sprung into action. We were fairly certain that Steady's grandmother would try to declare that she was going to stay and help guide us through the process of setting a home to order if she saw what it was looking like. Okay, Steady thought that, I thought she might just cry. The apartment is now super clean. Well, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room and one bathroom are super clean. The rest of the apartment is not actually, but no one has to see that.
For the record, when motivated to clean out of concern for an old woman's emotional well-being and esteem of her grandson, no one screamed, cried or yelled.
While cleaning, I found a letter on the stairs (presumably it was a letter in the door and then one of us came home and stuck it on the stairs and ignored it). It was from the leasing company and pretty long but the most interesting part was that there were evictions based on the conduct of some residents on the Fourth of July. Also, the complex is no longer permitting alcohol consumption in community spaces.
There was a lot of stuff about the pool and noise, so I am guessing that the idiots on the roof were not the biggest disturbance here that night...