The Hangover

The Silent and Brave revision: page #74

Lately, the beagles (who are in their terrible twos) have been breaking out of their kennel. I built it with welded wire that has 2 inch by four inch rectangles, and they figured out that they can get their snouts and jaws in there and pull and yank and worry it until it fails. The older beagles never figured it out, but I guess this batch is more energetic. I have been repairing the sections as they destroy them, replacing the welded wire with 1/2 inch wire netting. On Tuesday they tore out the last section, so instead of snowboarding Wednesday I went to Home Depot, bought the materials, and repaired it. However, I didn’t get quite enough, and there was one square left open for me to repair yesterday. Don’t worry, this is all part of the story.

My goal was to have the door hung in the soundbooth by yesterday. Kim and I got it all sanded and finished, so that all was left was to put in the glass and trim around the window, run the bolts through the frame into the box, and put the thing in place. I had to go to Home Depot again for the right size bolts and the wire netting for the dog kennel. While I did that Kim went to see a friend and, sweetheart that she is, to get me some beer that can only be found up at the lake. I returned with all my goodies, happy because my ‘check engine’ light had gone off without me doing anything (my truck is in its golden years), walked into the house ready to do battle with the sound booth and the kennel—

—and found that Penelope had torn the acoustic foam off one of the walls for the soundbooth. This stuff is expensive and you can’t buy just one sheet, you have to buy a box of twelve. We were so close to being done. I was devastated. Kim was devastated. I fixed the kennel, and then we hung the door. Damned if it doesn’t work just like we imagined. You shut it, and shhpmpf, all sound from the outside world disappears. I blasted Billy Idol as loud as I could in the living room and we could barely hear the base, and that was only because we knew it was on. The soundroom is complete!

So we decided to celebrate. It had been a stressful day, for us and the dogs. A year-long project was finished. And I had some yummy beer. And some shots of rum.

And today I feel like hell. All my grand plans to do things have been reduced to trying to stay alive and make it through work. I am closing tonight. I went back to bed. My head is still throbbing. My stomach still wants to vomit. It is raining, the beginning of a giant Pacific storm that is warm and even smells like the Pacific. There are rainbows everywhere, and I can’t appreciate any of it, napping with the dogs while the rain and wind blows, the knowledge that I accomplished my goals, all of this is lost in my hangover. Why did I do this to myself? Will I ever feel good again?


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