Hell

Just got back. Not real happy. [so if the following seems short and curt, it's just that I want to purge and move on... that and the fact that I feel like crap and just want to sleep...]

Met with Fred. We give him the color choice; he likes it. They had started the roofing... that was good. And that was about where the good ended.

I look over my list (but didn't give a copy to Fred... my mistake, and one I pay for later [ooh, foreshadowing]). My concern of the rain and mold: pretty much swept aside. He said that he had pulled the tar paper off one of the east walls and checked beneath it and the wood looks fine, no problem.

We discussed the stairwell window. We could wait while a special order was created and made (which could push us back as far as a month) or we could forget it and move forward (if worse came to worse, months down the line, we could install a skylight over the stairwell). Moving forward...

The fixture rush he apologized for, citing his issues with the High Holy Days and saying that he regretted the stress it put us under.

The tube lights are do-able, but they'll cost $260 apiece... I let this go, for now.

The doors he didn't have either an apology or an excuse for... but the one door (with a broken jamb) does need to be replaced, so at some point this week, we'll need to take it back to Lowe's (of course, my fear is that it can't be exchanged).

He showed us around the house. Frank joined us. We talk about the data lines (these are changes according to Fred [gone are the days when something as only something as major as moved windows were changes]... and he wants me to go over with them with Cain later today), and the addition of two reading lights for the master bedroom. Fred had the sprinkler designer show us how the sprinklers will be hidden, and then took us into the kitchen. There were a few moments where it looked like we were going to have to re-arrange the kitchen (sinks, stove, dishwasher), but finally after I told him that the cooktop would most definitely NOT be going on the island, as I wanted the jet engine-powered (just kidding) vent to blow directly outside, that was scrapped, and Fred said that he would have to look at the kitchen from a new perspective.

He knew that I wasn't the happiest of campers. He took us upstairs. And the tour continued. We're still waiting for the east facing windows of the boys' rooms to come in (Frank will check later today, as that's what's holding up paper/netting of the remainder of the east facing wall).

He must still know I'm not thrilled. He asks me what else is bothering me. I tell him that it's just that we've lived with the plans for nearly six months now, and we expected to see everything on them, and when we don't it's upsetting. He nods, listens to me, then tells me that in a job of this size, many small changes are needed for speed (he hints that there is still the possibility that we could get back in the house by the end of the year (or within a few days of New Years), and that I need to keep my eye on the big picture (something Lisa is continually telling to do).

At that point, something very strange happens. Fred takes Lisa downstairs; Frank goes out of his way to keep me upstairs, first talking about the wall unit that needs to go in, then the windows we're waiting for. It seems all very contrived and unnecessary. By the time I get downstairs, Fred in in the master bath with Lisa and they're discussing the window. She's nodding.

When we rejoin them, Frank mentions something about the tube lights, and Fred tells him that it'll work, then he mentions to us, again, that they're $260 apiece, and that he'll install for free, and just give us the receipt. I say, "Well, since there's not going to be an eastern window in the stairwell, we can put that cost toward the tube lights."

And he says, "But this is a separate job."

I'm dumbfounded. I stare blankly at him, and can say nothing. Long pause. "Well, maybe," he says, "we can cut it down to $100 per." I think I'm supposed to feel victorious.

Frank shows me the problem with the door: part of the jamb around where the knob/lock should go is cracked. [Lisa thinks that this may have been extant when we bought the door (since that's where the door had been ziplined shut), but I'm not sure] It's just depressing. Fred asks if there's anything else. I look over my list and see that I've hit my my high points and now just want to leave and curl up into the fetal position. Fred shows Frank the color for the exterior, Frank says he'll bring the stucco chips in so we can match it up to the choice, and hands me back the sample. And so on that additional wiping clear of responsibility, Frank and Fred send Lisa and me off to get her some lunch.

Driving away, she asks how I'm feeling. I shake my head. "Brushed off?" she asks.

Yep. That's exactly how I'm feeling. That and not real happy. Especially about having to return the door. Then, DAMN, I remember not discussing the sub-bullet under the "high point" of "DOORS" that the kitchen and back doors were supposed to be included. This I will need to bring up, but I decide to wait until after we've been to Lowe's (which we figure we won't be able to do until at least Wednesday... since we've already started the paper trail on that one with the email I sent to Dana on Sept 15, before my trip, and no response has been sent saying that this is an issue).

So we get Lisa lunch, and I'm still stewing, angry and worried. I gripe about the fact that we have to pay for tube lights when they're no longer having to buy/install and stairwell window. She mentions that while Fred and she were alone, he was pushing hard on all the things they were tossing in for free. Sigh. I just want this to be over. We go through the mail that I picked up on my way to pick up Lisa. And the hits just keep coming:

Two letters from the lawyer concerning our suit to become the financial guardians of our sons so that they can receive life insurance benefits from my late mom... one with a form to fill out and needing copies of the death certificate, the other a bill for an additional $581.59 (beyond the $1500 retainer I paid in February). Oh, Yay.

When I get home to begin keying this is, I have a message from the City Water guy. The bids are in; there's a low one for around $6300 (down from the 6750 before I left)... I just need to send him a written letter requesting the service change. Great.

I just want to be back in my house. I want to keep my eye on the big picture, but the details keep jumping up at me.

Someday, we'll look back on this, and it will all seem funny.

Yeah, Bruce... I hope so. Because right now, it's not funny, I'm not happy, and I just feel abused.