My closet still smokes

There’s still a chain-smoking boogeyman in there. I’ve moved all my coats to the storage locker–my biking jacket smelled when I pulled it out this weekend. I haven’t found a place for the other cloth goods in there. But I will.

This weekend, I used an expanding foam to fill the hard-to-spackle holes, re-caulked all the seams, and spackeled the remaining holes. No dice. It still smokes. I have all but convinced myself that, if I lifted up the floorboards, I’d be able to hear/see a ceiling fan in my downstairs neighbor’s ceiling.

I think two weekends from now, I wil buy the floor leveling compound from Home Depot and seal over the hardwood floor. Either that, or get my own ceiling fan. Except I’ll put it in the floor and have it blow the smoke back down.

Grumpy, grumpy, grumpy. It’ll be nice to have Chanel and the kids up this weekend. It’s hard to be grumpy around Finn and Ellie. I can pull it off, of course, but it is harder.

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