Oh man what a day.
A lot of artists seem like flakes, and lots of "left-brain, right-brain" jokes are made about us. The fact is, a fair number of artists actually do have a brain glitch called Discalculia. Yours truly is one of those lucky people.
Discalculia is caused by a few missing brain cells -- the ones that handle little things like numbers, places and, for some reason, names. This causes us artist types to show up at the wrong time at the wrong place to meet with the wrong person. Works havoc with job interviews, let me tell you!
Birthdays get missed, bank accounts get overdrawn ... and the IRS -- well let's just say I let my accountant handle the IRS!
The day we finished the Cummins Falls project, I set aside whatever time it would take to get my tax information to my accountant. The other accountant in my life -- my most awesome fiance -- had me set up with Quicken but that does not a foolproof tax experience make. Therefor I was still fiddling with it today, long after we had finished the Cummins show.
Whilst perched in front of my monitor on a rainy day, I became aware of a chill in the air. Being the modern American that I am, I simply bumped up the thermostat.
Chill stayed in the air.
Thermostat .... non responsive.
My house is over 100 years old, and the basement door is outside. So it was with no small degree of trepidation that I donned my rain gear and wrestled the cellar door (a bulkhead with no hinges) off the entrance.
I gazed into the descending darkness. Spiderwebs crisscrossed the maw of the ancient basement. I saw black, shiny, round spiders and many egg cases. Time for the broom.
After whisking away the webs, I braved the slippery stone steps... and met water. Oh no. The sump pump had failed. My basement -- and furnace -- were flooded.
My neighbor is a wonderful man who was home with a cold. He lent me a submersible pump and some electric heaters. The gas company man came and told me the gas company won't do anything because of "liability issues." (I bit my tongue and continue to bite it.)
So... as I write, the pump is pumping, the electric heater is heating, and my tax accountant has my Quicken file in his inbox.
Are we having fun yet?