Um, yeah, we had no notice whatsoever so I was like naked when I opened the door. Hi. Embarrassing!!!
So, anyway, I threw on some clothes and watched with utter amazement as they "fixed" my bedroom situation...
Ok, here's how it was: a ceiling fan/light combo that *does not work* with its cord stapled along the ceiling to the wall then down the wall to the outlet.
Here's how they "fixed" it: the guy ran a plastic covering along the wall to hide the cord.
Um.
Herro?
The stupid fucking fan doesn't work in the first place and the cord is, like, illegal, so why not just take it all down?
Is that not the simplest, cleanest solution?
But no.
One word: kluge.
Next he replaces a bunch of outlets. Ok, um, meanwhile we have drawers stacked on top of each other in a gutted section of our kitchen cabinets and he's replacing outlets? We have a gaping moldy hole in our bathroom ceiling right over the tub/shower and he's replacing outlets. Right. Ok. This makes sense. Sure. This is why I am awake and clothed. For this stupidity. When I could be back in dreamland working out a few kinks in my character sketches, but no...
Next he tells me with a look of genuine concern in his eyes that he thinks he really should talk to his supervisor about my bathroom ceiling.
Ya think?
Much?
I tell him, "Yeah, we've been trying to get them to fix that for YEARS."
"That long?" He replies incredulously.
"Yes, that long. No joke. For real. Amen. Can I get a witness? Now fix it!"
So, yeah, he's gone now off to "talk" with his supervisor down in their strange little room in the garage/basement... Lots of plants down there. And kind of a funy smell. No. I kid. Or do I?
ANWAY, now I don't know what to do with myself...
Do I wait? Are they coming back? Can I take a friggin shower already? Ugh.
And then my 'boss' calls me because I sent him a spastic e-mail and he's all, "You on speed?" Ha! I wish. No, just lot's of Mountain Dew. My green crack. Haven't eaten yet. Haven't turned on the tv or music. Haven't read mail...
Ha! I haven't done a thing today but freak out. Awesome.
So, I told him why I was a spazz and he talked me down some but I'm still unsettled... I dislike having my little safe haven interfered with, man. Like, "Dave's not here, man." Go away! Artist creating!
I should totally make a sign and put that on my door.
With a ps: Unless you're UPS.
Cause, y'know, I gotta get my stuff.

No comments:
Post a Comment