Sometimes, it's the destination, and NOT the journey.

The re-build continues at a less-than-breakneck speed.  The walls were painted yesterday, and in that regard, we can call it an epic fail.  Upstairs in the hallway, the color was correct, but the underlying texture was wrong.  They are correcting that today.  Around the corner in the living room, where I had hoped they wouldn't foray, the color is wrong; it seems the original owner did a strange, three color texture painting which is virtually impossible to copy.  So, that's so wrong, it would have to come up in my estimation just to be simply wrong.  Hopefully, they are fixing that on Monday, and in the meantime, I'll hide the offending repair with furniture.

Downstairs....the main room color is wrong.  And for some reason, they painted the hall with the same color.  They will fix that on Monday.  The office is fine, actually...they managed to match the ceiling texture very well.

There is a carpet guy supposed to come today.  I will not turn blue with the waiting.

I suppose this doesn't bother me all that much; aside from the deductible, my insurance is covering all of this, and any mistake made doesn't cost me a dime.  But the thing is, I'm expecting about sixteen to eighteen people on Christmas Day (have I told the story of the incredible expanding Christmas Dinner?  If I haven't, I will at a later date), and I would prefer not to have the house looking a trifle beaten up.

The presents are wrapped.  And tonight, after the necessary delay, the tree will go up.  We thought about foregoing, but we did that one year early in our marriage, and it was miserable.  Christmas needs a tree.  So, it will go up next to the fireplace on the lower level.  And the presents will be placed underneath.  And all will be well.

I'm looking forward to coming home from work at noon on Christmas Day, cooking some food, eating some food, and going back to bed to be ready for the next shift.

I'll tell you later about how close I came to quitting my job on another day.