Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Dear Charlie:

Okay, so for the first time in the two and a half years I've worked at this place, I FINALLY take a day off just to...ya know...take a day off. Not because I'm sick. Not because it's a holiday. Just...to have a day off.

Admittedly, I had a dentist appointment this morning. I've managed to make it to 31 years of age without having a cavity, so I guess I was just due. Plus, since he was only going to charge me for the two -- three? -- minor fillings, he went ahead and did some of the pre-care work he'd wanted to do before but could't because it was too expensive, even with my insurance. So, I had quite a little bit of dental work scheduled.

But I was still going to head back to work. Luckily for me, I decided over the weekend that I'd earned a darn day off after the last few weeks, so I asked. And my excellent supervisor -- don't worry, I tell her she's excellent all the time, so it's not just blog-sucking-up -- said "absolutely". So, today off.

I planned to get the dental stuff done in the morning, then just laze about and write all afternoon. Of course, this is Geeb's world, where stuff like that is less likely than the possibility of intelligent life on a soap opera.

See, I'd asked my dad a couple of months ago if there was something he could do about the bounce in my living room floor. There aren't a whole lot of set points under the house, and so the living room floor isn't terribly well shored up. He said he could probably put in some floor jacks and set it to rights, but it would be a while.

Well, apparently, it was today. He called last night and said he'd be up to fix the floor. I told him I'd be off all day, so I'd help. Yeah. I know, I know. Like I said a few posts down, I get myself into far too much.

So when I called this morning to tell him where the house key was, he said he'd also called my old plumber to see about replacing the leaky faucet in my kitchen. I'd tentatively thought to ask a friend to help, but it's a darn good thing I didn't. More about that later.

So, dentist...then floor jacks...then plumber. No worries, right?

First off, the long beam Dad made to jack up under the floor joists had somehow curved and twisted. Apparently, some of the boards had gotten wet and then dried crooked, twisting the whole length. No worries once it's in place because the jacks and the joists will pinch it straight. But getting it into place? Ah, there's the rub.

So...to help...I had to...*insert dramatic music here*...brave Teh Evol Cellar of Death!

Okay, more like Teh Evol Cellar of Crawling Beasties, but whatever. Man, those steps look like something out of a crypt. Ugh. But I did it. With minimal wibbling, I climbed down into the depths and risked life and limb -- mostly limb, when the floor jack I'd just screwed up into place decided to topple over right onto my arm while Dad screwed up another one -- to help fix my own floor.

A couple of hours later, we decided to use floor jacks on the rest of the long beam, too, instead of just some 4X4s, like initially planned. So, we ran and got some more jacks, trooped them down to the cellar, and just started setting them when the plumber showed.

Heh. Remember many, many moons ago when I said I'd bought this place from a handyman who weren't too handy? Well, keep that in mind. Basically, if the plumber'd had as foul a mouth as I can, even my ears would've been blistered.

Some stupidity abounded, so the poor plumber had to fix it. Bless his heart, but he did it, too, and I am now the proud recipient of a new faucet to go with my new honkin' beam in the basement that does, indeed, prevent the bounce in my living room floor. Now, I have no excuse to not do my aerobics.


Darn it.


So, after that, Dad said he was hungry. I was starving by this time because I hadn't had anything to eat yet and it was a good 2:00 in the afternoon, so we ran for Chinese buffet. Unfortunately, the vast amount of crispy-fried yummies were inedible because, while my teeth don't hurt at all, my gums are frackin killin me. Though I got several more anesthetic shots on the outside of my gums than on the inside ones, the inside ones left marks. Or wounds, I should say. Yowza. I'm usually not a baby about needles -- hell, I donate plasma twice a week, and they use a big ol' eleven gauge needle there -- but these do hurt pretty good. And I can even feel the holes left there with my tongue...which I can't keep away from them, of course.

Anyway, I crippled through lunch as well as possible, only to have Dad's tractor-mower hoist upon me as soon as we got back. Ack! Dad had just told me that the darn thing was worth more than my car, and now he expected me to drive it??

Dude! This is my day off!

But I did it. Not saying I did it terribly well, but I did manage to not run into any trees or over any small children -- though there was this one I was tempted to aim at -- and no harm was done. Plus, the lawn's mowed for the first time this year.

And...if I'd gone to work today...I'd just now be getting off.



So...why did I ask for today off again? I can't remember. I got a bruise on my forearm, cobwebs in my hair, all the cleaning stuff from under my sink spread all over the kitchen floor, enough grass/dirt/tree fuzz to choke even the non-allergic, and really sore gums.

Then again, I also have teeth that won't have cavities again, a new sink, a non-bouncy living room floor, and a freshly-mowed lawn. Hm. I guess that's an even trade.

Heheh. This...is my life. As the poster says, it may be that I exist simply to serve as a warning to others.


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