I should have said something about finishing my destruction yesterday, but I was too tired to remember. I spent most of the weekend tearing out the lath and plaster in my bathroom because, well, if the contractor does it he has to put in positive pressure airflow and suit up like a spaceman, etc. I haven’t heard of a good reason for it besides the lead paint. The way I figure it is that I’m only going to do this once or twice in my life, not for a living. And now I can say I don’t ever want to do it again, though I probably will.

So Sean and I teamed up to form Team DFL at the gym today, and poor Jenny got roped in as well. Actually, I miscalculated, and I think we weren’t really DFL and Sean even punted on two of five rounds of ball slams. Whatever. You’re only cheating yourself, but when you have a team with one guy who did Seattle-to-Portland in one very long day, and one guy who was trapped in a sealed bathroom with googles, a facemask, a Harbor Freight fake Sawzall, a prybar, and a hammer you’re probably going to get pretty slow times. I’m surprised they didn’t find us curled up on the floor passed out or crying after that workout.

Ah well. Life continues, and work is busy, busy, busy.