the suspense is killing me

Recently I learned that if you sand any existing paint in your twelve-year-old house, you could anger the paint-fume gods, who will go contaminate your dryer, not to mention the heating system or your husband. The heating system seems almost decent again, and the husband seems better, but blogging will be sparse until the dryer (hopefully) offgases because Miss Molly will be out hanging laundry in the back yard.

Also, the two part-time jobs I signed up for weren't both going at the same time before, and it turns out that I can pull off the combined 33-hour work week, but only if I spread it out over seven days and periodically drop the ball.

Today I disassembled the air intake side of the dryer and scrubbed all the insides with alcohol. I'd be freakin' rich if anybody paid for that kind of thing.