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So, I woke up around 8:30 this morning unable to do more than croak out vague noises not unlike some of the freaky animalpeeps from the Island of Doctor Moreau (I'm making up the spelling here as it's been a long day and I'm lazy) only to find:
I promptly went back to bed.
Only to remember that the gas man was supposed to arrive some time between noon and five to fix the no heat/no hot water problem.
I still went back to bed.
At 10:30 DH woke me up to tell me that he had reported for duty and been sent back home when he told them he didn't need to stay at the temp. barracks cause he already had a house.
I went back to bed. Again.
Woke at 11. Put hair in a lame-ass bun (as it hadn't been washed since Sunday since I had no hot water, and I don't want to hear it, I was quite grossed out enough as it is, thank you very much), grabbed a sweatshirt and the longest skirt of the two I have unpacked and went to find out what day it was.
DH and I decided that since he had the rest of the day off, we would leave as soon as the gas man was done and go get new cell phones and pick out some furniture (like a non-inflatable bed). Good plan. If the gas man had ever showed up.
At five till five DH calls the gas company (again) and asks when the gas man would be arriving since the time frame we were given expired in five minutes. He was told they couldn't give him a set time. He asked what happened when it got too cold to live in the house SINCE WE HAD NO HEAT! and would they pay to put us in a hotel?
I think he's starting to act more like me every day.
As he was attempting to politely explain that his wife was sick and no one had bathed in days and it was less than fifty degrees in the house and why the hell didn't some shmuck come out and turn on the F'in gas (he really is more polite than I am) the gas man showed up. Five minutes after five. He actually laughed at me as I stood, bundled up and shivering, in the living room (the gas man, not DH - cause I would have hurt DH for it).
The only good to have come from this day was getting to take a bath. In a tub. I missed that this last year and a half in the cottage what only has a clear walled shower (complete with voyeristic cats).
Tomorrow's trauma: Getting to know the PX. If DH can find it.
- It's freezing in the house. Not quite breath-seeing cold, but definitely teeth chattering.
- DH had decided that he really needed to shine his combat boots. On the carpet of the guest bedroom. Without a newspaper or anything. On the carpet. The carpet.
- I was still sick.
- And there was still no hot water.
I promptly went back to bed.
Only to remember that the gas man was supposed to arrive some time between noon and five to fix the no heat/no hot water problem.
I still went back to bed.
At 10:30 DH woke me up to tell me that he had reported for duty and been sent back home when he told them he didn't need to stay at the temp. barracks cause he already had a house.
I went back to bed. Again.
Woke at 11. Put hair in a lame-ass bun (as it hadn't been washed since Sunday since I had no hot water, and I don't want to hear it, I was quite grossed out enough as it is, thank you very much), grabbed a sweatshirt and the longest skirt of the two I have unpacked and went to find out what day it was.
DH and I decided that since he had the rest of the day off, we would leave as soon as the gas man was done and go get new cell phones and pick out some furniture (like a non-inflatable bed). Good plan. If the gas man had ever showed up.
At five till five DH calls the gas company (again) and asks when the gas man would be arriving since the time frame we were given expired in five minutes. He was told they couldn't give him a set time. He asked what happened when it got too cold to live in the house SINCE WE HAD NO HEAT! and would they pay to put us in a hotel?
I think he's starting to act more like me every day.
As he was attempting to politely explain that his wife was sick and no one had bathed in days and it was less than fifty degrees in the house and why the hell didn't some shmuck come out and turn on the F'in gas (he really is more polite than I am) the gas man showed up. Five minutes after five. He actually laughed at me as I stood, bundled up and shivering, in the living room (the gas man, not DH - cause I would have hurt DH for it).
The only good to have come from this day was getting to take a bath. In a tub. I missed that this last year and a half in the cottage what only has a clear walled shower (complete with voyeristic cats).
Tomorrow's trauma: Getting to know the PX. If DH can find it.
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