This remodel process demands vigilance. That could be translated to "hovering" or even "lurking" verging on "pestering" - watching what the people working on my house are doing and making suggestions or asking questions. Not because I don't trust them, but because I want to seize every opportunity for collaboration.

I've tried to translate vigilance to mean "awareness" - being nearby and connected to what's happening. Available for questions and heading off conflicts or problems before they happen. Anticipating the need for Wiremold perimeter electrical sockets, and driving off to the store to buy them.

It's the heart of my participation in the remodeling process - I don't twist any wires or lift any hammers. I'm not even planning to build a bookcase. But I facilitate, and maybe guide. Mostly I guide according to their suggestions, but still I have to think of future uses and price points and potential conflicts. And I'm present. Which is constant, from 7am when the first contractors arrive, until 10pm when the last guy leaves.

Not much time for much else. Recent socializing happens in crazy spurts - I sit in my house all the time and basically anyone willing to come within five blocks of me stands a decent chance of my partially divided attention over some food. When everyone working has left the house, I putter around with paint samples and sometimes avail myself of more extended excursions. I can't make any plans because finishing this project is my highest priority and that keeps me supervising until everyone's gone and then an easy-to-attend event lands in my lap.

Jen managed to drop by for a few minutes, long enough to strike an Evita pose where the front doors meet an iron railing.

Last night masquerading as an invited guest at an Electronic Arts HQ party, I ran into Alan in LA for the day. At 11pm he was game for some post-party food. I was tired, and I knew painters would be showing up at 7am. But Alan and I have done some fantastic eating around the world and I always enjoy catching up with him and I could use some comraderie and I was frankly delighted that he was willing to be put up in my hardhat hovel. I borrowed a sleeping bag from another party-goer and pointed Alan at my bed. And then we went to the Safety Zone on Wilshire (thanks Joanne!). It's about as close to eating on the street in Seoul as I've ever been - tents and corrugated metal over heat lamps and picnic-style tables. Usually empty, but still open from 11pm to 2am.

Alan gazes over a table of food at Safety Zone on Wilshire, just after midnight - the usual assortment of Korean side dishes, kalbi (grilled beef short ribs), yook hwe (seasoned shredded raw beef) and kimchi pancake. Next time, the waitress suggested, order kimchi pizza - it comes topped with cheese. I'm shown chewing, perhaps considering the addition of cheese to the evening's flavors.

Home and two bachelors in bed by 2am. Then Alan wakes up at 5:55am for a 7:20am flight. I wake with him, and begin packing my clothes and belongings away for the next round of home improvement - painting and patching.

Now after seven hours, a bowl of yogurt and some Indian lunch leftovers, I want desparately to lie down for just a spell. To take a load off. Maybe snooze. But my sofa is covered with my hanging clothes, and that's covered by plastic. I could count on a few preserved surfaces when it was just the plumbers and the electricians. But with the painters around, everything is compacted and covered.

Also, I need to ease my bowels. But the excitement of seven people crawling over the house and working in every corner translates into about zero privacy, the kind I like for my extended reading sessions on the toilet. I think just for a second, I should have taken a shit this morning. But then I remember, I did.

Desparate for a place to recover some strength, I think I'll go sit in my car. I want to stay nearby so I can still walk through and ask a switch to be replaced by a dimmer. Times like these, I consider drinking a Coca-cola. It's a short term fix, I know.