It’s automatic. It’s systematic. It’s HYDRO-matic. Why, it’s one heckuva nursery.

I was a day later than intended in finishing the electrical work in the nursery, but it all went as lickety-split as I anticipated once I got down to it. I’ve changed out dozens of electrical outlets in my time, so that was no big deal. (Apartment management turns out to have been useful after all.) I was more concerned about the nifty new light switch since it’s got a microprocessor for a brain, all kinds of fancy LEDs, and God knows what else. Turned out to be even easier than the outlets. So high fives all around.

I’m not saying it’s the case, but it could be—could be, mind you—that I have some type of mechanical/electrical aptitude after all. I doubt that an electrician could have done a better job with the switch and the outlets than I did. Then again, what does it say about my level of home improvement self-confidence and skill when not electrocuting myself qualifies as “aptitude”? So maybe we best forget this paragraph altogether.

We met with Melissa Beyer of Beyer Closets, a closet organizer person, in the late afternoon. We discussed various options for the maximizing the storage space available to us there. She suggested removing the closet doors, an idea that Erin and I are going to have to warm to before we go with it. Undoubtedly, getting rid of the doors offers us more storage flexibility and greater utilization of space. Those are big advantages. And it is true that the current trend in interior design is to open up closets and push belongings into view. That’s not a fad of which I’m particularly fond, and we’d at least need to curtain off the closet from direct sunlight regardless. Sun fades clothes. We found about this first hand in Mountain View. While we’re pondering the options, the closet company will send us some designs and costs. It’ll probably run about $500 for the full meal deal, but if it works out as we hope, I can live with that. Baby stuff has to go somewhere, and it’s not going in my room.

I was going to get outside and paint the exterior trim, but the forecast called for thunderstorms. Hmmm…standing on a 24′ aluminum ladder in the midst of rain, thunder, and lightening…let’s see…yup, there it is…number three on my list of “Really Bad Ideas.” I’m gonna wait a few days until the rain disappears when I can injure myself by falling off the ladder without the threat of a lightening strike doing further damage.