Okay. New plumber-dude is a keeper. He is a soldier, and was in Korea when they pulled their little 'nukes test' deal. (Spine? Check.) Dude is also a problem solver. Upon discovering previous plumber's faux-pas, he was able to rig up a suitable fix with a surgical cut and re-fit, thereby saving me from having to order another Bosch drain hose. (Brain? Check.) And he didn't flinch upon entering the Sunday morning disarray at Becher Haus. (Nerves of steel? Check.) 'Justin Dorsey Plumbing' is getting a big thumbs up for hiring this guy. Now that I know to ask for him by name, I may not need to dose quite so heavily for the next plumbing disaster. (Also the words 'power-vent water heater' didn't send him into cold sweats. I don't know how they found him, but they'd be stupid not to give that man a raise.)
Tonight was the Tosino's annual Halloween party, otherwise known as 'Ron's annual spring-roll fry-up'. I ate eight of them, and Herr Becher had twelve, plus chicken wings and a Philly steak sammie. It was not small. Tomorrow is WW weigh in. I'll be getting on the scale, but I doubt any weight was lost this week. I've packed it on with salt and grease. Totally worth it, though. (Hello, plateau.) Since the damage was already done (and I've been such a goodie-goodie thus far), I had Herr Becher take me past Starbucks where I ordered up a decaf mocha with extra whipped cream. Now I have only to deal with the resultant gastro-intestinal distress and it'll all be fine. Back on the healthy, high-fiber, points-tabulating track tomorrow.
Over-stimulated, sugared-up three year old to deal with. Tomorrow is also sweater class at the shop, I have no clean underpants, can't locate any bras except the one I'm currently wearing, and my roots need touching up. Hmmm. Guess who doesn't get to go to bed till Monday? Yep. I'll be in the laundry room if you need me. C