So the House is still suffering from the effects of renovation and I'm still suffering from the luxury of living alone. I woke up this morning and walked boxer clad into my kitchen for some orange juice. The French door creaked loudly, announcing my presence as I walked through toward the new fridge.

About 6 workmen, maybe more (I wasn't wearing my glasses) turned around. Only one was brazen enough to say what everyone else was thinking. "You work out?"

Thoroughly Humiliated and grasping for straws I said the only thing I could as I stood in the middle of my parents' kitchen, suddenly very cold. "Ah, so you guys work Sundays eh?"

"Gotta get it finished."

"Fair enough." I said, walking back out through the door in full retreat, no longer thirsty for juice, but longing for some pride. Sure my boxers are meant to be seen, well at least these ones, but not in these circumstances. I'm still not sure if they took the time to read them. I listened for laughter, nothing... Thankfully.

It was 11:30 and I walked into the bathroom, figuring I'd get a shower and head off to church with my brother and sister. As soon as I pushed the bathroom door, a door that had already been open, "What the F&^K! I'm in here!", the exlamation point being accented with the door slamming closed in my face.

Alright... A quick survey presented me with the very real possibility of no shower. Everything was occupied, it looked like a long drawn out date with an evening service for me! Yaay!

So I sat on my bed plodding away on my laptop, the sun warming my now frozen slender frame. Finally a bathroom door opened, this time vacated as well and I got my shower.

Now what? It doesn't seem that anyone has yet laid claim to my dog. I think I'll take him for a walk. Maybe over the southside hills. I always enjoy that. I mean, I am on vacation, I should start enjoying myself while sober in addition to the well established evening and night activities.

Damn Family. Cramping my style... not to mention my space :)