I spent the morning working at my new place and the afternoon cleaning tile at the old place. Then I spent the evening working again.

I made the mistake of returning a call from the Boss this afternoon. It's too bad he had Mom's phone number, because he's been able to keep me on a short leash, even though I have no phone myself and a million things to get done. He gave me a new project that is of course already in crisis mode, because of the late start. As soon as the phone is hooked up tomorrow, I'll have to spend the rest of the day faxing out requests for quotes on a new job we're bidding. So tonight I got as much of a head start as I could, not having a phone or fax.

As for this business of cleaning bathroom tile, I guess it's easier if you do it on a regular basis, instead of waiting until getting your deposit back depends on it. After a day of scrubbing, though, I wish I'd spent the money to have an expert clean, even if it cost the whole deposit amount. It's not just the sore arm muscles from scrubbing and the light-headedness from the toxic fumes. It's also the sheer frustration of exerting all that effort and seeing so little improvement in the shiny gleaming brightness of actual tile itself.

Some of the debris left behind in the move. Pieces of Styrofoam and a chair with a broken leg.

This is the kind of filth I was living in. There was a table leg wedged into this corner, and a heavy copier resting on the table. So nothing got moved, and nothing got cleaned.

There was some moisture damage to the walls that I couldn't see because of the furniture.

I managed to get through over three weeks without a valid driver's license. No citations, no arrests, no close calls. I can now stop driving so tentatively that it attracts the attention of the authorities, because my new license finally arrived in today's mail. Just in time, too, since I'll have to have the bid form for the new job notarized on Monday.