Barnstorming on an Invisible Segway

I am unduly relieved to find that I scheduled my doctor's appointment for a time that just flat-out would not work and had to reschedule it for the first week of November. It's not that there was anything particularly off-putting about this trip to the doctor, it's just that it was one more thing at a time when I really need no more things. (Of course, putting it off does increase the likelihood that it will be one more thing then. But it looks more cope-able at that time, from where I sit now. No impending foreign visitors. No likelihood that my suitcase will still be only half unpacked. Etc.)

The gutter cleaners also called to reschedule, as for some reason they did not want to be cleaning our gutters in the middle of Wintry Mix. Go figure. I don't even like Wintry Mix, and I love cold fall rain and I love snow. But not Wintry Mix. Anyway their rescheduling was a neutral in terms of Stuff, and there will still be clean gutters when Johan gets here, which I'm sure is a priority for him to report back to the rest of the family in Sweden. ("Wall," he will say, "the soup was lovely, and she has family things around the house and the linen runner we sent on her piano, but the biggest relief is that the gutters were clean." Isn't that what you say after a visit? I thought so.)

Also yesterday the basement fella rescheduled because his kid was sick, but she's better today, so he's back making that patch of basement into a Real Live Bathroom. Which is good, because that's why we've given him sums of money and will give him more in a bit.

It's not a woe is me time. It's a whoa is me time, though. Whoa. Stuff. And other stuff.

Soon I will be excited about everything else I figured out needs to go in The True Tale of Carter Hall, and it will be fun to put it there, but right now it is making me eep in quiet little overwhelmed eeps. (Eep.)

Onwards.