Another in an intermittent series that could well be subtitled more things I hate1:
- Knowing that the 8.00 kick-off was tradie time, but still getting up at 6.15 “just in case”
- Knowing I’m going to get a dehydration headache, because I’m already thirsty but having that doorbell-will-ring-just-as-I’m-having-a-wee anxiety. And the it’s-going-to-be-a-two-hour-job-so-it’s-not-like-I-can-relax-once-they-get-here anxiety
- Wondering if they were serious when they said (last week) “I hope you make good coffee” because 1. I don’t and 2. it’s your fucking job that you are being paid a fuck load of money for and you expect me to make you a fucking coffee? I didn’t break the window on purpose, and this is the second day I’ve had to hang around waiting, so fuck off
- Wondering whether I’ll recognise the next insurance ad based on a glazier calling a metalworker because he’s put a hole in a verandah, and the metalworker calling an aircon mechanic because he’s stepped through the window unit downstairs… (and hoping that it will be an insurance ad, not a Worksafe ad)
- Trying to figure out how I’m going to lock up the cats and run downstairs in the time allowed before they decide I’m not at home, given that the intercom is not working at the moment
- Knowing that I’m going to have to do all this again, when we decide to get the intercom fixed.
And, now that they’re here:
- Feeling as though I can’t watch a week’s worth of Rock of Love Bus because it’s a guilty secret that only the IQ and a few people on the internet know about and it’s not “real” if I’m not caught watching it in real life
- Being too embarrassed to crank up the stereo to enjoy Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass with Casino Royale, which comes up so rarely on the shuffle that it needs to be celebrated
- Trying not to take the muttered “frame’s so rotten, paint’s all that’s holding it together… that, and putty” personally.
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