The old Bob would have been plenty angry and let those involved know it. I am either evolving into a better version of my previous self, or I've been beaten by circumstance, hammered by mediocrity into acquiescence via low expectations.
When WAS Easter this year? That's the day we discovered we had water under the wooden floor.
Skip a couple chapters and we were to have the new flooring installed Friday, and planned accordingly. But no, the padding wasn't in. MONDAY MORNING! was the word.
Between 10:30 and Noon was the word.
At 10:50 I got the call. "If it weren't for this rain we'd be there - I am worried that the wood will get wet." "Plastic." I say. "But we need a dry place for the saw and..." "The garage," I say. "I'll call you right back," I am told.
Right back = 90 minutes. "We're 20 minutes away."
Terri is having a big luncheon here on Wednesday so if we slip into Tuesday which spans Wednesday, then we're into Thursday as a start. Another week shot as I have to BE HERE for the install as there are various easily damaged problematic spots in my listening room.
As I sit here waiting, wondering if this will ever get done, I realize it will, and ponder the school of thought that says you create your own reality. If true, I must be a masochist. Rejoice, any and all those who don't like me.