I knew it was a bad idea. I mean, who, in their right mind, starts a kitchen remodel project a week before Thanksgiving? No one. No one in their right mind that is. I knew it was a bad idea. I knew it in my heart. I knew it in my mind... but I went along with it anyway. My husband was so excited about it and I got caught up in the possibilities of how awesome it was going to look and how clean my kitchen would be when it was done. We've been planning it for a long time. What we wanted to do, how we wanted it to look. What materials we would need, how much we could spend and who we were going to hire to do it for us.
Then? All of the sudden, after a good couple of weeks of bar tending at the Sharks' games my husband announces that he talked to a contractor that had done some work for us in the past and he was coming by to start work on our kitchen.
"We have the money," he rationalized. "Let's do it now before the money is gone."
"What about Thanksgiving?" I asked.
"I already talked to him about it. He'll be done before then."
In my defense? It was possible. In ideal circumstances... anything is possible. What wasn't possible was what we wanted done and the time frame in which to actually get it done. And? I knew that. The rational, intelligent part of me (that really does exist, I swear) knew it would never come to fruition. Thus, we have, the "No Thanksgiving Zone."
My kitchen? The one where I cook up a Thanksgiving storm? Is totally cut off from me. We can't even go in there. Total disaster. We are eating off of paper plates. I am at the point where I don't ever want to eat out again. Ever. Fast food? Ugh, can't even think about it. I've eaten so much fast food in the last week-and a-half to last me a lifetime. And? My hips agree.
I have no idea where we'll be eating for Thanksgiving tomorrow... but I do know it won't be in my old little kitchen/dining room. *sigh*
Hopefully we will be ready for Christmas.