Hanging Out in an Old Robe for Sanity's Sake

$20 at Target years ago

Yesterday I got up whenever the hell I wanted for the first time in six days.  I flung open the bedroom door: no workers.  I didn't brush my hair, put on a lick of lipstick, nothing, nada.  Just me in my hag suit: robe, socks, and slippers.  I hung out in this outfit until 1 pm.  Bliss.

We had two tile guys here even on Thanksgiving Day.  The painter is chomping at the bit now that my sister and I have chosen the paint color ("Frappe").  The contractor is doing the finish carpentry work today and tomorrow.

Here's what the bathroom looks like:

N

Not very gratifying, is it?  The cabinet, vanity, medicine cabinet, and counters are all there but covered in cardboard ("protection").  

Here's the shower, which has required days of work by the tile guys:

The niche for shampoo and soap yet to be finished.  I think of it as the "shrine."

The closet in my studio is ready for a coat of paint and then installation next week of Elfa shelves and rods for double-hung clothes.

In the meantime, my studio itself has become a parking lot for everything that's been taken out of closets:

Nightmare

Just one day of hanging out in my robe in my entirely private house was luxury.  I puttered.  I caught up.   But by 7:30 last night, my sister was sending e-mails about towel racks and lighting fixtures, and the painter called at 7:58 this morning.  No robe-time until next weekend.