Yesterday, I wrote a post that was a bit peevish, as two guys have descended upon my house, installing new windows. Yeah, yeah, yeah… it’s a first world problem. Nevertheless, it still sucks for me, because I’m used to being by myself most of the time. I like peace and quiet, and being able to hang out at home, braless. I like reading and napping when I want to, and being able to write in peace, without a bunch of power tools and crappy pop music blaring.
I feel displaced in my own home, and it’s got me a bit irritable, even though ultimately, the new windows will make the house a better place to live. I don’t enjoy being bitchy to people, but these guys are kind of pissing me off. I want them to do their work and get out of my life. 😉 I want them to stop acting like my space is their space. I feel like I used to feel when I was watching a movie and my dad would come in and, without a word, change the station to sports or something. Granted, it was his house, and his TV, but he had no regard for me. It was like I was a nuisance to him. This time, I’m actually in my own home, and these guys have just swooped in like a bunch of seagulls and crapped all over my peace.
Yesterday, they spent most of their time upstairs, which is where I usually spend my days. They took over my office, the bathroom, and Noyzi’s room (which is really the “entertainment room” that we never use). Now, the bathroom and the office are done. I’m not sure about my bedroom and Noyzi’s room. I’ve parked myself downstairs with my laptop and AirPods, which at least helps me block out their annoying dance music with the mindless thumping rhythms and moronic melodies. It doesn’t block out the sound of their equipment, but I mind that less, as they need that to do their jobs effectively.
Well… now they’re moving downstairs, so I can’t avoid the noise as easily. I’m not sure if it would be better to go upstairs, or if they’ve still got their shit spread out all over the place. I just checked, and one of the guys is sitting on the stairs, basically blocking the way. I just pointedly closed the door again. I thought I had them trained. SIGH. See… I don’t like having to do that. I’d just as soon stay out of their way completely. But, just like Zack Mayo in An Officer and a Gentleman, “I got nowhere else to go!” So, I have to sit here and endure, just like always. It’s my lot in this military life. 😉
Before anyone tries to offer me solutions– and PLEASE don’t do that, by the way, cuz I didn’t ask for advice– I can’t leave the house. My car is dead, and I can’t get my dog in it, because he’s a big monster and I drive a Mini. The only way he’s getting in the car is if I drop the top and somehow manage to lift him into the backseat. I don’t think I’m physically capable of doing that by myself. But, like I said, the Mini needs a new battery. It won’t start, anyway. That’s the next problem we’re fixing to address.
So this is me, complaining again… and trying to focus on how I’ll feel when these guys are done installing our new windows. Maybe it’ll be kind of like this.
Looks like they might have taken a set of doors to one of the rooms upstairs. In a few hours, they’ll finish for the day. I might start drinking before then, though.
On a more serious note… yesterday, I found myself getting upset. I actually felt, at one point, like I might burst into tears. Why? Because this experience gave me a flashback to July 2013, when Bill and I were moving from North Carolina to Texas, and we had the most godawful movers, ever. They descended on my house like a bunch of hungry nematodes and did an absolutely TERRIBLE job of packing us.
It was very stressful to watch, especially when one of the teenaged boys came into the house like a fucking elephant and busted a hole in the floor. We almost lost our security deposit over that, even though the floor wasn’t correctly installed in the first place and was buckling because of moisture. The moving company, of course, denied responsibility. We complained, and their insurance company paid our former landlord.
The following year, we had to move from Texas to Germany, and we had split movers. One set was fantastic– they packed our stuff for Germany. Bill even did a shot of tequila with the guy– a Mexican and his son. The other set of movers– the ones who packed our stuff for storage– was shitty. One guy was on his phone the whole time, and the other got food poisoning from eating gas station sushi and had to go home early. I’d say the North Carolina movers and the storage portion of the Texas movers were equally terrible.
In both of those situations, I had a crying jag/meltdown/fit. I was about on the verge of another one yesterday. I was that triggered, plus I was hot and miserable. But I managed to survive, just like Zack Mayo did. I have every hope and faith that the same thing will happen today.
An Officer and a Gentleman is one of my favorite movies of all time, by the way. Maybe it’s time I watched it again. Also… when we went through the window exchange in 2014, I was somewhat less bitter.