It ain't pretty but I'm feeling very sorry for myself right now. We're living upstairs while our home is being redecorated and that is the easiest thing right now.
Here's the lowdown. . .
1. The cowardly architect walked out on the job right before they started digging.
2. The Landscaper from Malaysia is an artist with a great personality. He 'sketches and runs' but when asked serious questions (like 'how big should the pot be in the fountain', he gives cute metaphoric answers. (like 'that one seems too big but hey, it could make a statement') LIKE What statement? OMG I don't want to make a statement I just want to know how big the &*%$#^ pot should be!
3. The designer from Bangkok who is a very hip and down with it gal who really knows her stuff. . . doesn't read my e-mails clearly. AND often her e-mail doesn't work because of the remote place she lives in. I have to do all the work for the things she decides on because I'm the only one here who is reliable (and hey, it is MY house) I have to order the rugs and the lighting and the sofas while checking with her (via e-mail that doesn't always work) about minute STUPID things like the legs on the sofa that I don't give one crap about....
4.The 'hearbeat away from pathetic' new architect who works for our contractor, Raymond, is afraid of his shadow, doesn't have an opinion, says yes to everything to make us happy (THAT ain't working), is devoid of all personality AND opinions and when he gave me the autocad drawings it scared the ever-lovin %^&*# out of me! Now I see from his work that he has NO CLUE what we want. Clueless is awful because we were depending on him.
5. I am VERY tired of having to prepare things that I never cared about before. Limestone, carpet, lighting, door handles, toilets, doors, tiles, OMG I just don't care yet - everything is urgent cause we're living in the house and it needs to be done.
6. This sounds awful but - our 15 year old Golden Retreiver is SO INCREDIBLY ANNOYING with her heart failure, fluid in her lungs, arthritis, occasional incontinence, and geriatric brain disorder. Having to cater to her with all the work going on in the house is so incredibly difficult. (ie, every time the kitchen door opens she tries to escape out the door like a freed convict to see what's on 'the other side') - last time she did that was on a Sunday morning when she fell down into the newly dug 5ft. deep hole in the garden. "No, Lady! STAY!" I screamed, but of course she can't hear (or see) and she's hell bent on escaping the comfort of her warm, cozy kitchen. I had to crawl down into the hole in my dressing gown and carry the fugitive back to the kitchen. She has worn out her welcome as far as I'm concerned.
6. I'm singing in 2 groups. One is the regular quartet I sing in - fun. The other is the temp one just for a wedding which is requiring ALL my time right now as they cram in almost daily rehearsals to make up for all they did NOT do before. It's a ridiculous situation where we are singing 11 songs (me just 7) But OMG is it a wedding or a concert?
7. Okay I will have to complain more tomorrow cause it's late and I'm tired. . . . Needless to say, my house does NOT smell like pie.
Here's the lowdown. . .
1. The cowardly architect walked out on the job right before they started digging.
2. The Landscaper from Malaysia is an artist with a great personality. He 'sketches and runs' but when asked serious questions (like 'how big should the pot be in the fountain', he gives cute metaphoric answers. (like 'that one seems too big but hey, it could make a statement') LIKE What statement? OMG I don't want to make a statement I just want to know how big the &*%$#^ pot should be!
3. The designer from Bangkok who is a very hip and down with it gal who really knows her stuff. . . doesn't read my e-mails clearly. AND often her e-mail doesn't work because of the remote place she lives in. I have to do all the work for the things she decides on because I'm the only one here who is reliable (and hey, it is MY house) I have to order the rugs and the lighting and the sofas while checking with her (via e-mail that doesn't always work) about minute STUPID things like the legs on the sofa that I don't give one crap about....
4.The 'hearbeat away from pathetic' new architect who works for our contractor, Raymond, is afraid of his shadow, doesn't have an opinion, says yes to everything to make us happy (THAT ain't working), is devoid of all personality AND opinions and when he gave me the autocad drawings it scared the ever-lovin %^&*# out of me! Now I see from his work that he has NO CLUE what we want. Clueless is awful because we were depending on him.
5. I am VERY tired of having to prepare things that I never cared about before. Limestone, carpet, lighting, door handles, toilets, doors, tiles, OMG I just don't care yet - everything is urgent cause we're living in the house and it needs to be done.
6. This sounds awful but - our 15 year old Golden Retreiver is SO INCREDIBLY ANNOYING with her heart failure, fluid in her lungs, arthritis, occasional incontinence, and geriatric brain disorder. Having to cater to her with all the work going on in the house is so incredibly difficult. (ie, every time the kitchen door opens she tries to escape out the door like a freed convict to see what's on 'the other side') - last time she did that was on a Sunday morning when she fell down into the newly dug 5ft. deep hole in the garden. "No, Lady! STAY!" I screamed, but of course she can't hear (or see) and she's hell bent on escaping the comfort of her warm, cozy kitchen. I had to crawl down into the hole in my dressing gown and carry the fugitive back to the kitchen. She has worn out her welcome as far as I'm concerned.
6. I'm singing in 2 groups. One is the regular quartet I sing in - fun. The other is the temp one just for a wedding which is requiring ALL my time right now as they cram in almost daily rehearsals to make up for all they did NOT do before. It's a ridiculous situation where we are singing 11 songs (me just 7) But OMG is it a wedding or a concert?
7. Okay I will have to complain more tomorrow cause it's late and I'm tired. . . . Needless to say, my house does NOT smell like pie.
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