Yes, I did push myself too hard over the weekend, particularly on Monday (a holiday up here in Ontario). I did not ride my bike to work, even though it was quite nice in the morning. In a way that worked out well, since it got very cold and overcast in the late afternoon. I kind of struggled through the day, only finding out at the end of the day that I had made a serious mistake in data processing and 3 hours or so of work will have to be redone. That was kind of the last straw, and I left work early. (I also had to pick up some dry cleaning, but mostly it was just feeling totally out of sorts that made me bail.)
I'm having some trouble getting in touch with this contractor, and now it looks like the best day is Thurs, but that may not work out for him. I feel like I am in limbo -- half here and half in the new place. I think that's why I am pushing so hard to get into the new place. However, given the things that have to come together (especially if a contractor gets involved), it kind of makes sense to take it slow. We were leaning towards June 21, but I have to be in Niagara for most of June 20, and it won't be fair to leave everything up to my wife if there are things that just aren't ready. So now we are looking at June 27. We have to decide very soon though, as that date may be a popular one. If we do delay things one more week, I can go off and do another play here and there (or even Sing-for-Your-Supper if they get back on track and hold it in June) and not feel totally guilty about it.
After getting home I kind of crashed, though I did manage to finish up Lerner's 10:04, which I found quite boring. I really don't find writers writing about writing (in a novel at least) to be compelling (I don't think I've run across a narrator more full of himself and his enormous book advance in years). Furthermore, the poems that Lerner snuck into the novel were quite terrible. If they are anything like his actual poetry, then I am not at all interested in reading any more of his work (he's supposedly a poet first and then a novelist). In my (limited) experience, if you put poetry into a novel, you basically can only do it for laughs. I then napped until it was time to help get the kids to bed.
I'm probably just going to pack another couple of boxes down here. I still have to figure out if I am going to try to get a friend or co-worker to help me get the bookcases over to the new place on Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning -- or if I will attempt it myself. I have moved them on my own before, but I could use a bit of help (it's that getting older that just kills you). Assuming I manage to rent a U-Haul, I'll probably make one more trip with a bunch of boxes, and then will mostly focus on getting the books more or less back on the shelves, in order to clear up space for when the movers come through. I'll be spending quite a bit of time at the new place, so it's good I've gotten a radio at least. It does seem as though the bedroom will only need one coat of paint, which is terrific. It's looking like Thurs. will be the night I try to paint the back room, and that will probably be one coat with one spot that may need a touch up. So that's going pretty well at least.