Kenny: The New Cocaine

I'm still waiting to pay through the nose for all the good karma I've been enjoying the last couple of weeks. In the mean time, I am in junkie heaven. The only thing more addictive than hard drugs is a good contractor working for a quarter of the going price.

If figure that I can keep Kenny for two more weeks, but I'm already scheming a way to pay for a third week. All the crap that has accumulated since Christmas in our storage room is going on eBay. As soon as all the W-2's and 1098 forms come in, our taxes are getting filed. It's only a matter of time before I'm selling my ass on street corner, although I hear that organ mugging is pretty lucrative too.

As with any other good drug, Kenny has completely undermined the last vestige of our protestant work ethic. We spent all weekend lounging around our house like it was an opium den. At four o'clock in the afternoon, we're laid out in the living room, and we're still wearing our pajamas.

My wife looks up at the clock and says, "I guess we should go work on the house?"

"Hmm. Maybe tomorrow. Kenny is doing such a good job . . . " I shrug. "Lets have a risotto for dinner. Wine?"

So, we didn't do squat on the Devil Queen this weekend. As close as we came to working on it was making Kenny a to-do list for this week. And the worst part is that I don't feel guilty about it. Well, not enough to admit it.

I spoke with Kenny last night, and he should be starting on our hall bathroom today. It ought to be interesting. Taking a cue from Gary, I'll leave you in suspense here. I'll just say that we've found a innovative use for some scrap lumber. I think that it'll look good, but, if it doesn't, we'll just have to live with it since we don't have the money or materials to redo it.