Everything was going to be so cool - R Man would return from Dallas and be confronted with the black hall of his dreams. Unfortunately, our contractor, Jose, went back to El Salvador the week before he was supposed to start, got an eye infection and the airline wouldn't let him fly back while he was infectious. When I think of all the snot slinging low lifes I have shared airspace with and then they screw up my fabulous birthday surprise, it's no wonder I want to slap people.
So I told R Man all about my aborted plans and he very enthusiastically backed me up on revising them to include a later, uninfected date. Jose got back in early October and promised to call us when he could work us in. The call came in this morning and Jose announced he be here Monday at 8:00 AM.
Miraculously, we had gone to the paint store yesterday, so we're all set, all we needed to do was empty the closets in the hall (the insides of which we're having painted robin's egg blue.) Honey, you would not believe how much crap two gay men can stuff into two large linen closets in twelve years. The good news is that most of it is on its way to the SPCA for deserving kitties to sleep on. The bad news is I am wore out from dragging all that shit downstairs.
Also, for an amusingly ironic twist, R Man is leaving at dawn tomorrow for another damn conference. If I hadn't admitted my nefarious schemes, I could have surprised him after all. I do hate cheap irony.