Down to the wire

It's been a while since I posted, I know. Busy with rearranging the apartment and assorted other off-line activities.

First of all, let me say that Mom got the results of her stress test, and there's nothing wrong with her heart. She had to call them to get the results, which they have had since the day after the test. They tried to call (or so the receptionist claimed), but no one was home. My parents don't own an answering machine, and the receptionist said they didn't have my Mom's work number. They do, though. It was on the same form as the home number, if anyone had bothered to look. So we still don't know what's giving her grief, but at least it isn't her heart. She thinks she has a hiatal hernia.

I came home yesterday to another note from the apartment complex office. Inspection is definitely Monday through Wednesday of next week. And now he tells us things that I'm going to have to scurry around making sure of this weekend: no power strips or extension cords are to be in evidence. This means my computer's getting unplugged. I'm also pretty sure that the space I have between my table and book case is a little too narrow to be considered a "clear path," so it's time to move furniture. Again. I wish they'd said something sooner.

To add insult to injury, the inspections are random. They might not even pick my place to look at, and all this fretting and fussing will have been for naught. The manager said he'd contact us after/if our apartments got inspected. Delilah is going to have to be crated three days next week, unless I hear otherwise. Thank goodness they only do this every 4 to 6 years. Hopefully I'll be out of there the next time inspection comes around.

I probably won't be making an entry until Wednesday night, unless the manager sounds the all-clear before then. Wish me luck.