The contractor told us that our new kitchen would take two weeks. Mark believed him. I told him, "I'll see your two weeks, and raise you one week. Three weeks." Even with that, I figured it could take four weeks if things got sticky. We have now been told, after four weeks of no kitchen, that it will take another week. That is five weeks of eating out, eating pizza, and getting take out from Wolfy's. At this point I have tried just about everything on Wolfy's menu and have come full circle to the classic Chicago hotdog that Wolfy's is famous for. Two of them last night as a matter of fact. Two loaded Chicago hotdogs at eight thirty at night, washed down with a Corona beer. I woke up at five this morning because I was having some very vivid and strange dreams. There is one other thing that is stacking up in the house besides Wolfy's takeout bags, pizza boxes, and fast food menus. The bills. My desk is overflowing with bills and Home Depot receipts for the kitchen that still isn't.