It really is true , " If you want to < Insert Deity Of Personal Choice Here > laugh, tell them you have plans.
I know it's been a while and I haven't been the diligent blogger I once was , but sometimes life gets in the way .
Thus far....
We had gotten to the point that we had finalized most if not all of the choices for the renovation...granite, flooring paint etc. Then we found out that out that the Moron , our contractor and SU's partner in a variety of crimes has a family health issue, though not his own. Not my story to share so that is all that I am going to say here. We left things on an open timeline and while I was not comfortable with the "whatever " attitude, I do understand . I remind myself that I am not the one dealing with the Big C.
So we just went " Meh " ....and left it go for a couple of weeks..
Last week as we were half assed preparing for Mardi Gras and SU's annual trip to NOLA with the crazy Cajuns, the Moron called to say that he would be at the house on Tuesday , Feb. 12, aka yesterday to begin work on the guest bath .
FRAK.
Dude, I have stuff to do to get the boy on the road , and now I have to go to Lowes tonight ( last Wednesday ) and buy counter top, vanity, taps, commode and light....and arrange for delivery on Monday of this week...while SU is out of town and I am home. We have picked it all out and I have typed up a room by room list of that is to be done, vendor names, model #'s , item #'s and colors....and I hope this is all in stock and can be delivered this Monday.
Cha Ching..it can be delivered .
$$$$$ out the door.
SO there I am at home, trying to sort out all of this in my head...after the guest bathroom, what room do I prep ? Which bookcase to pack...the only reason I have a kindle is that we have run out of wall space to build another bookcase....I have a s**tload of hard cover books as does SU. Do we have enough boxes..where is the tape....panic...panic...breathe...breathe....OMG OMG OMG...and oh yeah ....OMG .
Friday I pick up the mail and there is a letter from the estate attorney in California. Enclosed was a receipt for the balance due on my portion of the estate.............AND NO CHECKS. I stood in my kitchen and began to hyperventilate. I ran out to the mail box and rechecked. Checked the flower bed, checked the driveway, the path through the garage into the kitchen...checked the envelope again..grabbed the junk mail out of the fresh kitchen trash bag ( like I cared at that moment ..no shit..) and I called the West Coast . A lovely young man named Mark said that the attorney was out of the office until the 18'th. I left a message and having realized part way through the conversation that I was dealing with an answering service, I thanked the gentleman and wished him a good weekend . I do the same sort of work at our firm in many ways so I know how it works ...and he was very nice, which does count boys and girls, it really does .
Good Times.
So I call Southside and he calls our step-sister , the Trustee and Executor of her mothers estate. She calls me and tells me that she mailed via cert mail the checks to the house , earlier in the week. My heart sank. Last August when yet again we were BOTH in NOLA, there was a distribution from the attorneys estate and I asked that all mailings be sent to me at the office . I don't get home until about 7 pm during the week and it would be the following weekend until I can get to the USPS to get said mail.
Saturday morning I get up at Oh Dark Thirty to feed the Feline Overloards and realize that on the weekend that I have no idea what actual time the mail runs..it like everything else can vary. So I watch ...and run out the door when I see the carrier at the box, but she's quick and I have to leap over debris..don't ask..so I wait,,and wait....and wait till I see her turn around to come down the other side of the street.
With all the grace and charm I could muster considering that I didn't take the time to put the damn dentures in and frankly had more on my mind that the fact that I now appear to mimic the whitest Moms Mabley on the entire block, ...I stood in the middle of the street and waved my arms all but doing a fairly accurate ( or so Cindy Lou Who says ) imitation of Jerry Lewis in one of his early films...
" HEYYYYYY LAAAADDDDYYYYYYYYY "
No certified mail slip.
Now nauseous , I realize that there will be very little sleep for me until Monday at the earliest. I piddle with laundry and sit down to read...and begin to watch Xena .
Yeah.
Sunday , I do busy work....and watch Xena .
And realize her time is ending.
Monday, I wait for Lowes to call with the delivery time. They arrive and unload all the order save the faucet taps...$138.00 worth of Peerless Oil Rubbed Bronze. On the receipt I clutch in my hot little hand. On the Manifest/bill of lading. The driver suggests after stating that they no gotti John Gotti , that possibly the taps might have been inserted in the box containing the new vanity..nope. The counter top /sink ? ..Nope. Now why he would have thought that it would have been alright to open a customers sealed box to insert another item by another vendor and insert said item was and is beyond me. The side kick driver FINALLY found the MIA taps in their box in the truck...Good deal dudes because you had one very po'd customer who was refusing to sigh off on a delivery valued north of 1K.
And then the mail came.
Lather , rinse , repeat.
I just sort of lost it by the time SU got home and I shared all the adventures I had while he was throwing beads.
Separately , I could have handled most of it all , I'd like to think ( LMAO ~ yeah right ) ...but to add the stress of a breaking heart as a truth is accepted ?
Not so much.
Checks were finally retrieved and deposited....the bathroom has begun and if I can make it through this next week..
The adventure has just begun.
Ciao,
Aunty Pol
No comments:
Post a Comment