Last night was all about hitting XyloVan’s extensive punchlist of Little Things that Need Doing.

I spent the better part of a flaming Technicolor tequila dusk on the roof beneath the gently fluttering canopy, side effects paranoid that we’ll crash or break down en route to the playa, cialis 40mg and debugging shorts in the strobe/flood bars. Then I set about hammering out all the other little things I’ve been meaning to do as this insane 6-month project comes to fruition.

Things like …
Installing “port” and “starboard” marker lights on the marque keys …

… replacing these blown out vinyl door pockets.

This involved cutting up some old darkroom trays (farewell, patient dead technology …) And yes, that is a floorstanding vacuum being used as a suck-vac for my radial saw, and no, I don’t want to talk about how stupid it is …

… riveting together the cut halves and laying them out …

… slicing my thumb open with the utility knife … again …

… cutting some leftover canvas drop-cloth for a slightly less kludged-together-looking finish …

… riveting it to the door panel and clamping down bits where the silicone goop wasn’t enough to hold them in place while it dries (et voila!) …

… and then making the exhausted but extremely wise 12:30 a.m. (again) decision to blow off installing the blue front-quarter-panel floods, which a) would probably dilute the port/starboard lights and b) certainly would have robbed me of two of the six hours’ sleep I need to not die from having spent the entire week getting only five hours a night.

I’m remembering now what it was like when the kids were infants, hungrily eating into my sleep patterns. Feels like you’re wearing a 28-pound bowler hat made of lead.

Two more nights and half a day of worktime left. I think we’re gonna make it.