Today, I am a desperate housewife.
Right now, I am sitting on my nice floral print couch, waiting for the handymen to arrive. You might remember this delightful evening when it rained into my kitchen? All the way back in August? Yes?
Today, almost nine weeks after I rang my landlords with a slightly panicky voice to get them to do something about the elements having wet midnight parties in my kitchen, the handymen are supposed to come in to install two new windows. You might have noticed that I said "are supposed to come in" rather than "are coming in". That's because they are already 45 minutes late. Which is fine, hey, it's dandy, it's not as if I mind, or could be elsewhere, or have any lingering interest in getting new windows, oh no, THIS IS ALL PERFECTLY FINE WITH ME.
To add insult to injury, I got showered and dressed and human looking when all I want to do is build myself a nice nest in my bed because Lyttonboy, love of my life that he is, was so kind as to share his nasty, nasty cold with me.
And I made the handymen some coffee, which is now waiting in the thermos and getting less warm by the minute and for the love of all things holy, can they please JUST GET HERE ALREADY AND RIP MY WINDOWS OUT?
Oooooh, look, LJ has a direct line to God, they're finally here! The interesting things is that the windows they are hauling up look way too big to my unschooled eyes to actually fit into the GLARING HOLES where my old windows used to be. Interesting, very interesting.
But I am finding my centre and breathing deep and saying ommmmmmm a lot while sneezing because they know what they are doing. They are window specialists and I am... not. The sneezing a lot part is furthered by the fact that I am currently sitting in a flat whose lack of windows let all the cold, 1°C, frost on the roofs air envelop me like an icy, icy blanket.
I am cold. I do not like being cold. I also do not like having a cold. Look, this is what having a cold and being cold does to me:
(Maybe I am bit melodramatic. Just a bit. But to make you a bit more sympathetic to my suffering, the tea and the food and all the things that make sick melodramatic people happy (meaning my giant stash of chocolate) are in the dust-covered kitchen that I am currently not allowed to enter.)
I think I should also share with you that I already got guilt-tripped by one of the two repairmen. While he was carrying one of the windows into my hallway, he looked at me with big, brown, soulful mourning eyes (and this is not an exaggeration for dramatic emphasis) and informed me that "it was just mean". What is "it, you might wonder. Well, it's the location of my flat right under the roof of the house. He repeated "it's just mean" twice, all the while giving me the look, and I shuffled my feet and murmured "sorry" a number of times and am now hiding in my living room because I am a bad person for not living on the ground floor.
I do however peer into my kitchen every half an hour or so, kinda like this:
The glaring holes are now glaring holes with gleaming white frames, so that's something, right?
And on that note, l'll end this entry and go to write the last missing scene for On Razor's Edge 4 instead. Next time you hear from me, I might actually have new windows! YAY!
Today, almost nine weeks after I rang my landlords with a slightly panicky voice to get them to do something about the elements having wet midnight parties in my kitchen, the handymen are supposed to come in to install two new windows. You might have noticed that I said "are supposed to come in" rather than "are coming in". That's because they are already 45 minutes late. Which is fine, hey, it's dandy, it's not as if I mind, or could be elsewhere, or have any lingering interest in getting new windows, oh no, THIS IS ALL PERFECTLY FINE WITH ME.
To add insult to injury, I got showered and dressed and human looking when all I want to do is build myself a nice nest in my bed because Lyttonboy, love of my life that he is, was so kind as to share his nasty, nasty cold with me.
And I made the handymen some coffee, which is now waiting in the thermos and getting less warm by the minute and for the love of all things holy, can they please JUST GET HERE ALREADY AND RIP MY WINDOWS OUT?
Oooooh, look, LJ has a direct line to God, they're finally here! The interesting things is that the windows they are hauling up look way too big to my unschooled eyes to actually fit into the GLARING HOLES where my old windows used to be. Interesting, very interesting.
But I am finding my centre and breathing deep and saying ommmmmmm a lot while sneezing because they know what they are doing. They are window specialists and I am... not. The sneezing a lot part is furthered by the fact that I am currently sitting in a flat whose lack of windows let all the cold, 1°C, frost on the roofs air envelop me like an icy, icy blanket.
I am cold. I do not like being cold. I also do not like having a cold. Look, this is what having a cold and being cold does to me:
(Maybe I am bit melodramatic. Just a bit. But to make you a bit more sympathetic to my suffering, the tea and the food and all the things that make sick melodramatic people happy (meaning my giant stash of chocolate) are in the dust-covered kitchen that I am currently not allowed to enter.)
I think I should also share with you that I already got guilt-tripped by one of the two repairmen. While he was carrying one of the windows into my hallway, he looked at me with big, brown, soulful mourning eyes (and this is not an exaggeration for dramatic emphasis) and informed me that "it was just mean". What is "it, you might wonder. Well, it's the location of my flat right under the roof of the house. He repeated "it's just mean" twice, all the while giving me the look, and I shuffled my feet and murmured "sorry" a number of times and am now hiding in my living room because I am a bad person for not living on the ground floor.
I do however peer into my kitchen every half an hour or so, kinda like this:
The glaring holes are now glaring holes with gleaming white frames, so that's something, right?
And on that note, l'll end this entry and go to write the last missing scene for On Razor's Edge 4 instead. Next time you hear from me, I might actually have new windows! YAY!