I’ve spent the last six days crawling over the contents of the master bedroom closet which are scattered, stacked, piled, randomly thrown on the floor, the chair, the chest of drawers, the armoire, the bed, the bathtub….you get the picture. The repairs from the water damage have begun and I had hoped to have them completed by yesterday so that I could put everything back into place before the big party we’re having here tomorrow night but nothing ever goes as planned because, hello, welcome to my world, and I currently find myself in a bit of a pickle.
On Monday, the contractor had just arrived and was working in the garage ripping some lumber and I was at the kitchen counter ripping through some peanut clusters and he walked in the garage door and casually asked if I had some paper towels. I vaguely waved in the general direction where they were and then he, again, casually, asked I would mind pulling off some sheets for him because he had SLICED HIS FINGER IN THE ELECTRIC SAW AND IT WAS BLEEDING ALL OVER HIS SHIRT and let me tell you, I didn’t know I could vault over the bar but I can. I ripped off half an acre of sheets and handed them to him and asked if I could take him to the ER and he said that he’d already called his boss and he was on the way to pick him up.
What? You practically cut your hand off and you stop to call someone other than the ambulance????
And then he went outside with his bleeding hand to wait for boss and I followed after him and was completely hovering and let me tell you, he was not letting me helpful. Can I get you water? A chair to sit on? Aspirin? Hydrocodone from my last bout with bronchitis? He politely refused all offers and I couldn’t just stand there so I went inside to get some gauze and tape to wrap his finger a little more securely and sanitarily and realized that I had never replaced my first aid stash since we used all those supplies this summer changing surgery dressings for Travis.
A real live emergency and the only absorbent things I had were feminine products. Something told me that just wasn’t going to fly.
I went back out to the garage and he said that it had stopped bleeding and HIS BOSS STILL WASN’T THERE and I didn’t want him to be alone in case he fainted so I had to fill the time with small talk because if there’s anything that can be counted on in a stressful situation it’s that I will inappropriately over-talk and so I told him about all the six-thousand, five-hundred and thirty-seven trips to the emergency room that my dad and brothers have had.
Because THAT was helpful.
So the boss came and they went to the ER and I paced until Boss Man came back and he said that his employee was fine and getting a couple of stitches and that our project was going to be delayed and I said that was fine and it really is and I rejoice that no parts were lost in the building of the new closet but the inner me is now slightly panicked at the revised schedule which involves them leaving two hours before 30 people walk through the door to the smell of hot crab dip mingled with fresh paint.
Hi, everyone from Craig’s work! Looking forward to seeing you! Please don’t ask for a tour of the house lest you see me faint dead away.
Have a nice day.