I have planned to do Nanowrimo this year. ~2000 words a day? That would be fine — if I had a plot[1]. Oh well: we’re supposed to write novels, not good ones, right?
[1] I am uninterested in doing the “barely fictionalised version of my life” story — I have a blog for that — and today I am feeling spectacularly unoriginal. Well, for a while, now, since I signed up before.[2]
[2] No, there aren’t actually any portents.
Am I annoyed that my cat has been throwing up some watery gross stuff on my bed or worried about her?
Okay, Sheepish is right, I need a new category for the house-buying stuff. I am way too lazy to go back and check all my house-buying posts to figure out which are about *buying* and which about *fixing*, so it’s reader input time! What shall I rename this category to? Right now “homeownership sucks” is way in the lead, but that’s because it’s the only one I’ve thought of in the at least 30 seconds I gave to it.
Please? I am so entirely unoriginal right now.
My earlier trepidation was warranted: the flooring people did not show up. I called, left a message, called other flooring people, went home. They called back, a bit later:
“This is whatever-it-is flooring, you called?”
“Yes. You were supposed to come by between 9 and 9.30, but no one did.”
“Well, they were finishing another job.”
“But you said they would be there. I was waiting.”
“They have to finish another job first.”
“Then why did you say they would be there?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Will you be there later today?”
“No, I have to work.”
“You didn’t say that you weren’t there all day.”
“No, I said I hadn’t moved in yet, and you said they would be there between 9 and 9.30.”
“You should have made it clear you weren’t going to be there all day.”
“You said they would be there.”
“Well, I didn’t know you weren’t going to be there all day.”
some discussion about when I could be back there. 11.30? No. They said no to the evening.
“Well, what do you want me to do? They were busy this morning.”
“Then they should have called to tell me.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Nevermind, I will find someone else to do this.”
Argh.
Update: New people were very nice. They will be doing it tomorrow, and will be done in two or three days, depending on how long things take to dry.
There’s a chandelier I found which I love. I want to want a cool modern one — but I don’t, I want a classic crystal chandelier, it’s all I can envision. I go and see beautiful modern ones and think yes, but not for me. Classic sense of style or lack of imagination? You be the judge!
I have also decided on what to do so that I have living room lights I like: I will make some kind of ceiling light out of stained glass. I am having trouble finding patterns in my 30 seconds of searching, but no doubt if I made an actual effort I could get something right. (You ask why I need a pattern? Because lightshades have more angles and things and I have never worked with those before, and it’s much easier to switch around an existing pattern than to make one up all on your own, for non-flat things.)
Tomorrow: floor people. I am currently debating the hire movers/beg friends options. It’s the third floor, so I feel guilty asking for help carting boxes up all those stairs. Also, I guess, I just don’t like asking for this much help. I am not sure why.
Apparently the best way to “celebrate” the 10 year anniversary of the last referendum is to have news article upon news article about how, hey, maybe there will be another one again any time now.
In one of the home hardware stores — Reno Depot? Home Depot? — today, I met the Energizer Bunny. He just walked around the store, banging on his drum. Every time I passed near him I smiled. Eventually he walked closer to me and patted my cheek.
Yes, I can flirt with advertising characters.
What, no sympathy for my new broken toilet? I am feeling annoyed by the vendor, who fucked up the moving date and didn’t apologise or pay for the extra taxes etc for one day (okay, I would have refused, but she should have offered), didn’t leave me a key she said she would (so I have a Medeco lock but no key and no card to get a new one made), and broke the toilet upon leaving.
Minor? Yes. Annoying? Also yes.
I will, however, not be giving her the piece of stained glass that I intend to replace from the skylight. A stupid, petty revenge, yes. But that is me.
I got my poppy. Well, poppies: unsurprisingly, I lost the first one — those things slip off like there’s no tomorrow — and got another. Apparently Tim Hortons just has boxes of them at the cash.
The centres used to be green, and it still surprises me every year that they are black now. (Again, apparently: they were changed to green “more than 20 years ago”, then back to black in 2002 because the poppies in Flanders have black centres.) I understand this: I know that we are remembering people who died, too, and black is more appropriate. But somehow, I preferred the more hopeful green (which still appears on some of the literature, oddly).
Electrician has come and gone. I have lights in all my rooms, except my dining room, because the chandelier my grandparents gave me died. It was working, then it was not. So I need to find a new one. Specifically: I need to find a new one I can afford. I am waiting on the one for my bedroom. I am ok with the ones in the living room — they were cheap until I could decide better, but they’re pretty innocuous. I am very happy with the ones in the bathroom and office.
In yet more from the complaints division, the vendor left a dozen cans of paint in the closet, which I will now need to get to whatever hazardous waste sites or — something. And she — or the movers, or her partner — threw what looks like flowers in the toilet, which is now blocked.