The DC people.....
No, it didn't take two weeks to drive XC. It's just that the moment I saw the house, I freaked out and went into a coma from which I just awoke. But never to fear...the "silver lining" version of the story goes like this:
We were thinking about having the floors sanded and refinished anyway. And I was kind of regretting picking green for the new carpet in the basement.
Here's a wierd one. The outside of the front door smells like smoke, but not the inside. I guess the hooligans were at least polite enough to smoke outside. However, they were not polite enough to throw their butts in the trash.
There were dirty hand prints (frat boy sized) everywhere. Even the ceilings!
The neighbors have been reveling in the horror stories, in their not exactly veiled attempt to say: HA! That'll show you to rent out the house next to us!
The end of the drive went fine. I'm sure many interesting things happened which I can't remember since the traumatic coming-home experience. However, in order to prove the widely held suspicion that most accidents happen within a few miles of home, I drove to DC, drove around DC for 15 months and drove home without incident. Then an hour after arriving home, I went to the grocery store and had my accident. Let's just call it an incident. And don't mention it to my car insurance company.
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