1.  The home inspection was worth the $450.  First of all, I need to have a chat with Starbucks and find out why his coffee makes him buzz at eight o'clock in the morning.  I mean, he was zipping around the house.  When I saw him in action I thought he couldn't possibly catch the little things at such a speed, but my assumption was quite wrong.  He had pages of notes, catching small things like a shelf in a closet being unlevel and big things like moisture by the egress window in the basement.  Actually, I saw the very obvious streak first, but he would have gotten to it anyway.  If the drywall is showing dampness, then the insulation is wet: in short, mold hazard.  Also?  Try to schedule your home inspection on a rainy day.

There were four "off code" issues--smoke detectors were on their own circuit, the plumbing "manafold" was not bracketed correctly, the door leading from the laundry to the garage was not on springs, and a "double tap" was in a breaker only meant for one.

Perhaps the biggest non-code/non-hazard issue is that the water heater is not big enough to accommodate a jetted tub.  We have a 50-gallon water heater, but a 75-gallon is required.  This, we discovered, was an option, but it wasn't offered to us.  We'll probably do the upgrade (we almost have to because who wants to soak in barely lukewarm water?), but we have to convince them to not charge us a $250 change fee.  I'm really quite pissed off about it--we're not the first people to upgrade to this model of jetted tub; surely this issue has been brought up before now.  Andy, I'm sure, will find a way to convince them to waive the change fee, but still.  It's a hassle we'd rather not deal with.

There were numerous cosmetic issues, including drywall imperfections (gouges and scratches that you couldn't see if you stared straight at them, but could if you trained a flashlight on them), an active leak in the chimney and around the vent from the furnace on the roof.  The latter requires caulking, and the former needs a convex something or other.  Neither the attic fan nor the lights were installed, and somehow the special-ordered fluorescent light for our kitchen had not arrived.

2.  The inspection really did take about 3 hours.  I didn't get home until almost noon, so per my boss's instructions, I worked from home because she'd rather I not waste drive-time for a half-day.  (I have an awesome boss.)  So I worked for four hours from my sofa.  While it's great to do so, working from home on a gray, rainy day is quite difficult.  I kept wanting to curl up with the kitties and take a nap.

3.  [WARNING:  Very Incoherent]  Lost was freaking AWESOME.  The part that totally blew my mind was that Jeff Jensen predicted who Jacob would be, added that he thought it was crazy and unlikely, but he was RIGHT.  His recap is quite good as well.  So what's up with Claire and all her coy I-have-a-secret smiles?  Is she dead?  Is Christian Shephard dead?  And why didn't Michael blow up the freighter?  Wouldn't that have been time to do so since his mission is to prevent the freighter people from destroying the island?  Except that Desmond is on the ship AND THEY CAN'T KILL HIM OR I WILL REVOLT.  And wasn't it HILARIOUS when Keamy's gun misfired when he tried to shoot Michael?  I cracked up at that.  Keamy is a crazy crazy man.  The time loop and space time continuum and quantum rip theories are sounding more credible now--showing the doctor's death the way they did.  And Alpert!  Ageless, creepy, bushy-eyebrowed Alpert was back!  That whole "island test" scene with 5-year-old John was about the creepiest thing ever, as was John's drawing of (dare we say it?) Smokey--despite that at this point John hadn't been to the island.  (Or has he?)  I'll stop there--I could go on and on because it was perhaps the best episode yet for the diehard Lost cultists.

4.  I went to The Limited this even and bought four pairs of pants, three shirts, and two camis for $240.  Their pants are buy one get the second 50% off, so I broke down and just bought khaki, black, white, and dressy jeans.  If I'd known I was going to try on white pants, I probably wouldn't have worn, um, colored undies, but oh well.  All girls in the dressing room anyway.  I'm annoyed at the sizes--but I hope that, by next year, I'll be able to take them to a seamstress and have them altered to a smaller size.  One dress size in a year is not an unreasonable goal, and I think I can do it.  No, I will do it.  I don't have a choice.  I have to be healthier, or I'll be miserable for the rest of my life.