Vacation Countdown: 13 Days!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My usual Monday morning bliss was shattered by one after another after another construction cockups.
The contractor called me this morning at 7.45 am to ask if someone was going to be home so they could come in and sand walls, paint the living room ceiling and paint the office.
Of course someone will be home.
Just like someone has been home all the other mornings they chose not to come.
Fine.
Good.
Progress.
He calls back a few minutes later, wanting to conflab about the red paint.
I told him I was going to the paint place in an hour, when it opened, to look at alternative colors, because I wasn't taking any chances that the red paint wouldn't need additional coats of paint.
Coats of paint I couldn't afford.
Because remember, I am only allowed two.
Things went from tolerable to pain in the ass shortly after they arrived.
Because no one told us what their plans were for the day.
And when we were informed that today's activities included painting the office, it occurred to us that things would, obviously, have to be moved from the office to somewhere else.
All of which would have been done had they informed us Friday of their plans.
But they didn't.
So while contractor guy 1 was sanding the newly replaced office wall, completely cocooned in a plastic semi circle that extended from ceiling to floor, Stephen and I removed what needed to be removed from the office.
Stephen, I have to say, was pissed.
How come they didn't say that this needed to be done for today? We could have had it all done before they even arrived? he whispered to me as we were transferring plants, pictures, children's desks, lamps, chairs and other bits and pieces from office to our bedroom.
Now simply known as the storage space.
Everything moved, it was time for me to chauffeur the children to Empire Theaters for a morning meeting about the employee scavenger hunt.
Keith and Em had worked quite late last evening, so neither of them were happy about being rousted from their slumber at such an inhumane hour.
I didn't really care.
Unfortunately, Keith tried to transferred some of his pent up frustration in my direction.
In addition to the meeting, he wanted me to commit to taking him to get his glasses adjusted, and then take him downtown.
I was in a bit of a mood because the construction cockups and no confirmation about end of meeting times meant my Simply for Life appointment had to be postponed.
Because no one, not contractors, not children, not husbands, could seem to understand that I can't be in more than one place at a time.
And that the only place I wanted to be was at Simply for Life.
The only place I had to get to was Color Your World to get paint chips for the living room.
So I was harbouring some resentments.
Couple that with Keith's demeanour and demands and you had a recipe for a less than pleasant drive to the theaters.
I said that the best thing at that moment was that no one speak.
And even though I know the boy comprehends English, he just kept talking.
And talking.
Because he was hell bent to have his say.
Which is how I know he's my child.
We arrive at the theater.
They go to their meeting.
I head to Starbucks because if there was ever a morning when I needed a venti Pike Place roast it was this morning.
Of course, in all the frustration and confusion, I forgot to ensure I had reading material with me.
Luckily, there was a full and complete Globe and Mail at Starbucks, so I read it while I drank my coffee, waited for Chapters to open, and waited for the kids to finish what was supposed to be a 15 minute meeting.
But wasn't.
Eventually, Keith showed up, his friend in tow, to tell me that his friend was taking him to get his glasses adjusted and that he'd see me later.
Given how miserable he was, later was fine with me.
Leaving me to wonder where Em was because I needed to get those paint chips and get back home so the contractors could get the paint mixed.
Eventually I gave in and called Em.
Who said she was meeting with her scavenger hunt team and would be with me shortly.
I wasn't in the mood for shortly.
Finally Em shows up.
We leave.
Head to the paint store.
Em stays in the car while I peruse paint colors.
Enjoying a brief interlude from the chaos and cacophony.
Until Em comes in bearing my cell phone telling me Stephen is on the phone.
Meaning, another crisis was unfolding.
Hi honey! What's up?
Did you tell them that you wanted the green in the office changed because they're getting ready to put on a putrid color green. Their on break now, but they want to paint when they come back in AND they want to paint the office without repainting the office ceiling. They said it isn't covered by the insurance so they won't paint it.
I could hear, feel, smell and taste his overwhelmedness.
So I grabbed some paint chips and left, barrelling home to address the latest construction crisis.
I come home, walking towards the house and hear,
My wife is right here.
One, the paint color was the one I had selected.
Stephen is on the fence about it.
At this point, they could paint the room chartreuse and puce and I wouldn't care.
The ceiling was another issue.
They were not going to paint it.
So, I did the only thing I could think of on the spot.
I asked contractor man 1 if he would be interested in painting the office ceiling and how much he'd charge for it.
$50.00.
After work.
SOLD!
After 5.00 pm he'll return and paint the ceiling.
Stephen offered to, but given his frustrations, I figured letting him loose with paint may result in our ceiling looking like a Jackson Pollock painting.
Fires put out for the time being, I moved on to the next crisis of the day.
As I was waiting for the kids in Starbucks, my cell phone rang.
The only reason I answered was because I thought it was the SFL people returning my call.
Nope.
Guess who?
Her Nibs.
Meredyth.
She started with her "hi's" and "how are you's" but I was just not in the mood.
Mer, what do you want?
I already knew.
But I wanted to hear what she had to say.
I need a drive to work. For 11.00.
I'll be there at 10.45. Be outside. Be ready.
Em, sensing my stress, offered her car and chauffeuring services.
Good.
Because I wasn't feeling very driveworthy at the moment.
And this all before 11.00 am on a Monday morning.
The after 11.00 am shits and giggles weren't much better.
Stephen, frustrated and angry was wandering through the house muttering about what he'd like to say to the head contractor, and how there was a serious lack of communication during this whole process that he found completely unacceptable.
All of which was overhead by the contractors working upstairs and downstairs.
At lunch time the head contractor showed up.
Setting Stephen, the love of my life, but the all-talk-no-action-peace-loving-man-that-he-is, into a bit of a flutter.
Time to haul out the hose and put out some more fires.
Through communication and patience we were able to sort out all of the issues.
Including that of the red paint.
Remember that second contractor call this morning?
Seems there was no communication between the head contractor and the other contractor and the red paint had been mixed in spite of my saying I no longer wanted the red paint.
Head contractor wasn't a happy guy.
Which is why they need to talk to one another as well as to us.
By the time twelve thirty rolled around, it looked as if we were to be contractor free for the remainder of the day.
Frankie out of the crate, celebrating his new found liberty.
Goblet and her bell jingling throughout the house, joyous at her release from the claustrophobic confines of our bedroom.
And a contractor's van pulled into our driveway.
The floor guy.
Coming to re-install the floor.
He looks like Santa would if Santa just came off seven day bender.
Oh happy Monday!
I will share the fun of taking Mum to the grocery store.
But it'll have to wait for tomorrow.
Because it's only 1.33 pm and I am ready to crawl back into bed, hide under the covers, and come out only when all the chaos and crap has ended.
Meaning I'd be in bed for the rest of my life.
Some books, water, the occasional cracker.
I could handle it.
Title Lyric: Masterpeice Theater III by Mariana's Trench
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