Crack House

I think the hardest part of rehabbing a house is the flop-house. Some might call it a transitional house, others a half-way house, others an apartment. For me, it's more like what I think a crack house would be. Now, I'm not privy to the life of an addict, but I would assume it's much like the life Nathan and I are living at the moment. Picture a place where you go to get a fix, a high from the latest way to quench your addiction..while high, you dream. Visions of finished bathrooms, and closets....a dishwasher (ahhh...a dishwasher...) and clean floors. Maybe there's a rug or two, or perhaps even a washer and dryer. That place, that dream, is your rehab home..finished and complete with woodwork and trim hung nicely in place. You dream and dream of what it will be like when you are finished and moved in, of what splendors will follow in your life post-rehab. Much like the addict, you try and stay high as long as possible...ahh....so comforting in the land of dreams. The drugs wear off and soon you are left to face reality. See, while rehabbing, we are also working and keeping up with the daily chores life tosses our way. There's the laundry, dishes, general cleaning of your living space, and a long list of oil changes and birthday cards, grocery shopping and get-togethers. While all of these would be easy tasks for an organized couple, Nathan and I are not. Add on the responsibility of a rehab, and the flop-house is born.

Flop-house is the term we use for our apartment. It's in complete shambles and so are we. I'm not sure which happened first, the chicken or the egg, but what we have is scrambled eggs. Scrambled eggs from three days ago crusted on top a plate from four days ago, with leftover box-oh-noodles-and-natural-flavoring for added decoration. The flop-house is hard to maintain not because of exhaustion (although that too is hard), but because you now think of things in terms of time; time away from the house. The thought of doing laundry once a week like a good spouse (husband or wife..this is a 21st century marriage here), doesn't mean taking a night away from watching Survivor or Family Ties (I really miss that show), it means taking time away from the house to go and do laundry. It means one day less working at the house, which in theory means one day longer until you are in the house...living. It means enduring the guilt of feeling like you should be over there, but can't or don't want to. You are left with nights of feeling guilty, nights of should haves but didn'ts, and the nights you think to yourself, "hmmm...I should go over to the house and work right now, but I'm really tired...sitting all day at work has made my body ache from inactivity. I have to do laundry, the dishes haven't been done in a week, the bed is still on the floor and Bertie is still able to jump right in whenever she's tired (which is the better half of all day), 'I think I should' you say to yourself, 'but I can't'." That, is what I (perhaps Nathan too, but I don't know...I can't tell if this guilt is a rehab-thing or a woman-thing. I'll get back to you on that) I go through on a daily rehab-basis. I guess it's sort of obvious..tonight I was supposed to do laundry. It's sitting on the floor in a heap next to the laundry basket (too full to fit inside). Bad Kathy...bad.

PS - Nathan and I are not proud of the way we are currently living, nor do we like to admit we are responsible.