Remodeling

I had an exciting and unlikely prophetic dream last night that, at some point in the future, there will be wild elephants in Mexico. 

My mother finally visited our hot and little-used second floor to see the extensive drywall repair work my husband had recently finished, necessitated by the much-regretted (on my part) joint decision 6 years ago to install a heat pump when we bought the house, and the unbelievably bad drywall work the installers did over the ducts (this is a Cape Cod house, so there was no space to do ductwork between the roof and ceilings.)  She peeked in the bathroom and made a decision to remodel it, something I've been campaigning for since we moved in.  The upstairs bathroom, victim of a very low-budget do-it-yourself remodel I'm guessing 30 or so years ago, features plastic wall tiles (where they haven't fallen off), a partition wall between the shower and toilet that is rotting at the base, and a space between the shabby homemade vanity and said partition so small you have to turn sideways to get to the toilet; I tell you this just so you don't think I'm frivolous in wanting to remodel it.  The whole room is about 5 by 5 feet and can't be expanded, far too small to contain a shower, but removing it and making the house a 1.5 bath would sacrifice "value", so we have to find a way to squeeze a shower in there better than it was done before.  My brother has been hired as the contractor, which is good because I know he won't treat me like a nutjob when I push for the lowest-environmental-impact options.  Remodeling this bathroom will make it easier to sell the house, and make it much closer to rental-ready if we have to rent it instead; it will also make it easier for me to share the house in the meantime. 

My job was supposed to end over a week ago, but when I emailed the HR person on the second-to-last day to inquire about my final paycheck, she told me she had emailed my boss on June 6 to tell her that I could stay through July 22, but my boss apparently was so busy with some personal problem(s) that she hadn't gotten around to reading the email 3 weeks later, which is not surprising to anyone who knows my boss.  So, I am employed for a little while longer, and Carmaggedon (what I'm calling my anticipated liberation from daily access to an automobile and the resulting life changes when my husband takes the car) has been postponed accordingly.  I think I've gotten my bike trailer operational - it needed a new tire.  The bike shop would not sell me a new seat for my bike, instead the guy adjusted the seat I had and told me to ride it until I could describe specifically what was uncomfortable about it.  I appreciated that.  I've still got to learn to do roadside repairs (tubes at least) and think through what I'll do if something happens while I'm out with my son, because I feel like the bike and trailer are much less reliable than a car.  Maybe I'm wrong in thinking that?  Maybe it's just that the familiarity of a car offers psychological security, while the bicycle makes me feel vulnerable.  I've never changed a car tire but that doesn't stop me from going anywhere in the car.

I dropped my mom at the airport this morning.  It may take me months to recover from this visit.  A few good things came out of it, but the status of my plans at this point, the way I see it, is that I'm on my own.  I'm going to need a lot of determination to change my life into what I want it to be.