Remember that movie "Love Story"? Remember the catch-phrase from it: "Love means never having to say you're sorry"?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Clearly whoever wrote that was never, ever married.

The spousal unit and I had what the diplomats call A Full And Frank Discussion over the situation with my imaginary office, the office I might one day have if he ever, oh, you know, PICKED UP A FREAKIN' HAMMER AND ACTUALLY FINISHED IT.

Our full and frank discussion took place upstairs. Our sharp cutlery is downstairs, in the kitchen. I think we can all agree that it is always wise to conduct full and frank discussions unarmed.

He pointed out that he's been working on other projects here. He works full time as a carpenter, so finding energy to actually build things at home after he's built things for other folks all week can sometimes be a challenge. And yes, August was also stinking hot.

I pointed out that he'd made me a promise. I explained how very tired I am of the current situation. I pointed out that as the weather worsens in the fall I will be spending more and more time indoors which means all the clutter and mess are going to be in my face for longer and longer periods.

I did my level best not to whine, but oh, man, I'm sure more than a little whining crept into my voice by the end of my, uh, full and frank sharing of my point of view.

I think the volume might have also risen a tad.

I was waiting for his full and frank reply, steeling myself for a rise in volume and annoyance from his side.

He let me down.

"I'm sorry," he said.

ARRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHH.

You want to know the worst part of this?

He meant it.

I HATE IT WHEN HE DOES THIS. By being mature, he's robbed me of the fun of ratcheting up the full and frank discussions AND forced me to respond in an adult manner. I actually had to acknowledge that he made some good points.

In a moment of weakness I may have actually forgiven him, too.

Look, he caught me off guard.

I'm trying hard not to be bitter about this.

The spousal unit told me it will be weeks before he has time to start on my office. Weeks. He won't give me a completion date, because he says he doesn't know yet what the fall holds in terms of work. Oh crap.

Welcome to purgatory.

Watch where you walk. Wouldn't want you tripping over that box of old maps by the sofa, eh?

--Marn

There's a new inductee into the Bazonga Boosters Hall o' Fame, folks who have decided to spend some of their hard-earned buckazoids supporting me as I run the Jog for the Jugs Oct. 5 in Montreal! Yep,

P.P.S.- That iron woman, Karen is doing an unbelievable 60 MILE WALK FOR BREAST CANCER! If you don't want to sponsor me, perhaps you'd want to sponsor her. Yowza, that makes that 5K Jog for the Jugs seem embarrassingly short.

Mileage on the Marnometer: 408.78 miles (657.9 kilometers)

Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers