Here it is Monday morning, and very soon, someone very tall is going to be at my door, ready to fix the crack in our ceiling. Having a crack in your ceiling when you're on the ground floor of a 13-storey building is not exactly comforting, but I can get used to it. What I don't think I can get used to is having my bedroom swathed in plastic.
I usually would put something like this in my calendar, prompt Google to remind me it's coming up, so that I would have envisioned what we might need from the bedroom, like clothes and earrings and books, and done something domestic about it.
"Prepping bedroom for tall guy" did not appear in my calendar, and now I'm going to have to wing it.
I hope I remember to pull out my workout gear, she said with something evil in mind.