I repaired the living room ceiling, but despite my best seriously-pissed-off-consumer routine, had zero success at convincing Buck that it might just be his fault(gasp). Meanwhile, after my complaint that the upstairs floors felt like sandpaper, he decided to repair them, starting Sunday. After no Buck sighting on Sunday, Wifey called. Buck was
90% of our possessions were moved into TWO rooms of the new house this weekend, with huge thanks to Wifey's tireless family. The piles completely fill the two rooms, floor to ceiling.
Our apartment now contains a mattress, the computer, some clothes, some food, and a couple totally random piles that are destined for a cardboard containment system.
On Thursday evening, we'll move those final items into the living room of the new house, where we'll be sleeping (in ONE room) until the 2nd floor polyurethane is dry, and I can hoist the bedroom furniture up the stairs. Note: Wifey is 7 months surro-pregnant, and Little Man is 3-1/2, so neither will be much help in moving furniture up the stairs.
Wait ... wait ... it gets better.
The refriderator arrives on Thursday, but the outlet needs updating and I haven't secured an electrician, despite a couple days of calling. The stove arrives on Sunday, but I can't find a plumber with an opening until the end of next week. We have to keep the heat off because the radiators downstairs are spewing steam
Seriously -- I'm quiting my job and becoming an electrician. Become a plumber? No thanks, it's too yucky. But electricians make serious bank, and are clearly in short supply.
In the midst of all this, I try to remember that I'm so frustrated because I'm oridinarily so privileged. Many people in our world would feel blessed in my situation. In the spirit of thankgiving, my love goes out to my incredible family, friends and community, and my appreciation goes out to a roof over my head, clean water to drink, health, a job, and leftover turkey sandwiches.