the last i left the house was saturday afternoon when the second coat of polyurethane had just been applied, waiting to dry. the place was thick with the odor of polyurethane, smelled like an art studio. the floors were shiny from the protective glaze, and very much dry. 
the pilot lights in the gas stove kept on clicking on and off, the contacts clogged from all the sanding particles, nothing i can do but to wait for it to clear out on its own (the gas was shut off from the basement anyway, there wasn't any danger). first order of business was to put down some rugs, just to dampen the glare of the shiny new floors. i put my new red rug between the counters and the striped runner from the backdoor into the kitchen. i also put together the antifoni floor lamp, sticking it in the master bedroom.
i didn't want to bring up any of the furniture in the basement because i felt they'd scuff the floors (i need to get those little felt pad stickers), so i just camped out on the living room floor with the cablemodem, ibook, cellphone, pen and paper, answering e-mails, conversating on aim, surfing the web.
at noon jimmy and sunny, the floor guys, showed up unexpectedly. not only did they show up without calling first, but they had the audacity to just walk into the house without even ringing the bell. fortunately i saw them pulling up to the curb so i was ready. they came to put in the doors and to collect the rest of their money. when they tried closing the newly replaced guest bedroom door, it closed tightly, scraping the threshold as it went. "you want it like this?" jimmy asked. "no, can you trim the door down a little bit?" i replied. jimmy let out a little whining sound and grabbed the table saw from his van. they trimmed the two bedroom doors, blowing sawdust everywhere onto the new floors, walking all over my rugs with wet shoes, tracking dirt into the house. i couldn't wait for them to leave, i gave jimmy te check, he should my hand with his left hand, they got into their van and drove off. i ran back into the house in total cleaning mode. wiping the mud with paper towels, vacuuming the sawdust from the floors and the rugs. that's when i discovered that the door to the guest bedroom closet wasn't trimmed so it actually scaped the floor when you open it too much. also, the legs of the table saw they used left scratches on the kitchen floor. i was kneeling on the ground futilely trying to wipe off the scratch marks. i spent several minutes going through the stages of grief -- disbelief-anger-acceptance.
i brought up the boxes of tools and home repair supplies from the basement, in preparation for the pre-painting clean up work. i was surprised how soggy the boxes were from the damp basement. 
wonder if leaving a dehumidifier downstairs would help? the basement doesn't leak (well, a little, from a street facing corner, an easy patch job though), but the walls are stacks of large rocks cemented together, which allows the below ground moisture to easily pass into the basement. sometime in the afternoon my father stopped by briefly to deliver some lunch and a medium height ladder, which i used to strip paint on the master bedroom door frame. i also did some vacuuming today, tried to clean up as much as the dust from the floor sanding. i left cambridge around 5pm.