So, back at the beginning of October the house flooded, and not because a pipe burst or anything, most of our side of the street flooded due to continuing construction north of us that drains down on us and several several inches of rain dumping down on us in 30 minutes to an hour. It was a horrific time and the side of the house with my bedroom, Gracie's old room, and kitchen are on got the worst of the damage. So after months of fighting with insurance companies and fighting with the company that did such a *great* (total sarcasm, they suck) job of removing the water, removing all of the ruined carpet from the house, and setting up the wind tunnel droning fans that were running constantly until 2 seconds before you want to go on a massive killing spree we finally had ceramic floors. Mostly thanks to mom because she's so handy and I don't have that gene, but I did do what I could. But I digress...so since most houses built in the 80's were made of pressed wood and the bathroom and kitchen cabinets soak up water like a sponge the cabinets are falling apart. It's coming up on 9 months later after the flood and still...STILL the house is being fixed.
My mother is about the most docile human being on the planet, at least when other people are around that aren't considered family. These worker type people come through and tell her something that would throwing me into a wildly spinning hissy fit and all she does is take a deep breath and bottle up all her rage until she gets into traffic and can make gestures that embarrass me to no end and spew some of the worst combinations of words that I could not even begin to mutter. So this latest round of people trampling through my house are for custom made wood cabinets and granite counter tops. The cabinets are in (except for one that hangs above the stove), the part of the wall mom wanted cut out has been done, for the past 2 weeks we have been waiting for the counter tops. The woman that is the main contact for the counter tops is the daughter of the man that made the cabinets and a total flake. Why they couldn't do all this at one time, I'll never be able to figure out. So I wait yesterday for the actual delivery of said counter tops, so these 2 guys come in lug all hundreds of pounds of granite into the house and they are banging stuff around and I'm taking it all happily because we will again have a kitchen sink and a functioning kitchen, yay!!!
As quickly as my hopes were raised they were snuffed out...problems always a problem. The walls in the kitchen are not perfectly straight which causes problems and the granite is not going in correctly and they will have to re cut something and come back tomorrow. Oh yeah by the way, they were also an hour late. So I'm saying "mom, call her and find out when they are coming back tomorrow" so often I sound like a broken record. Mom says "oh no, she said she would call back in 30 minutes, so I'll just wait until she calls"...time passes...no call...Anastasia unhappy. We are on the way to get some food and I'm calling the granite lady a flake mom is telling me to call her when we get home. Okie dokie...I call it's almost 7:00 pm she answers and says "Oh, I'm at the shop right now trying to figure this out with my guy, if I don't call you back in 30 minutes I'll call you first thing in the morning!". Oh please, don't make me laugh! If she was a pizza delivery girl all the pizzas would be molded and 3 weeks late! So mom leaves to go to Dallas and I wake up and realize the granite flake still has not called. I call her and it's almost 10:00 am and she says "OK, can we come by in about 2 hours?" I'm like "sure OK you'll be here at noon". Noon comes and goes and again, no granite flake. Unlike my mother, I am far from docile. I'm not evil (as several people would lead you to believe) I just think that if you are doing a job you should get it done to the best of your abilities and be there when you say you will be there to do said job. So the granite flake shows up 45 minutes late, I'm watching the drug bust and news crews down the street and she shows up. No trailer no several people, no equipment to cut the hole for the kitchen faucet, just the granite flake and yet another person I have never seen. So the granite flake and the new guy come into the house look at the cabinets comment about how they can fix this but they have to remove the counter tops and redo the cabinets because they were set wrong (don't forget, the cabinets were put in by the granite flake's dad) and it can all happen tomorrow...always tomorrow. Oh, they can be here at 9:30 am...30 minutes after I wake up, the time of the day I sincerely appreciate solitude and drinking coffee alone because I am a notoriously BAD morning person. So, since my mouth is usually quicker than the filter that should stop me from saying things I say "hey, it's been 3 weeks, why not stretch it out another f***ing month!" I don't regret saying it, if they did the job quicker they could have had it done and dealt with my docile mother, instead they screw around and get me. I don't mind when people think I'm evil and mean, in fact I think it is really funny when they scatter when I have the unhappy look on my face. So we wait, until tomorrow...
As Always,
The Beaverhausen
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