Some days you are the windshield

Some days you are the bug. This whole damn week has been the latter rather than the former. If it hasn’t been one thing, it’s been several others. I am still working on the bathroom from hell. I swear, I am beginning to think this job is never going to end. Just about the time I get towards the end, the job changes yet again. I think I may be stuck on this job till I die.

This weekend promises to be better. At least I hope so. I am headed out of town to work for some friends of mine. They are fantastic. They tell me what they want done, I tell them how much. Then they go away and let me work. They don’t bitch about the bill, and stay out of my hair. I wish all my customers were this easy to get along with. But, unfortunately, most of them are not. Some days I really wish I didn’t have to work with the public at all.

And now the bank is playing the shell game with my bank accounts. We will be having a chat in the morning. I didn’t authorize transfers from one account to the other, and I will get to the bottom of why money is moving around. And I see a bank change in my near future, since I have very little patience for this kind of weird shit. Of course it’s even worse because I didn’t see what was going on until tonite, so it will be tomorrow morning before I can get my hands on the computer jockey who is screwing around. You can bet on one thing. Everything WILL be put back where it was, and if I have my way, someone is going to be out of a job.

And here is my tip for the day. Never, EVER shop your car insurance. I have gotten at least 50 calls. I won’t even answer the phone right now unless I know who it is. Hell, most of them are way higher than my current carrier. I have been with them three years, and it looks like that is where I will stay.

Tomorrow promises to be yet another irritation, since I will be back under a house AGAIN. Seems that is all I have done this week, and I am sick of crawling around on my belly. This one should be rather simple, but it’s still aggravating. Seems a local plumber (and I use that word very loosely) did some replumb work under this particular house. It would appear that dumbass didn’t mark what was hot water and what was cold water, because now the bathroom lines are reversed. I have to put it back right, which will most certainly involve mud and cold water. I guess that cold water is better than scalding water, but the mud and muck is unavoidable. Of course, this is the same asshat that cut a hole in a wall so that he could access the tub valve, only to discover that it was a double wall, so he just left it. Not his problem, he just makes the messes and leaves them for someone else to clean up. He has a problem with the bottle, and it looks like it’s affecting his judgement. Time to sober up or quit working on peoples homes. I have cleaned up more than one of his messes, but because he is licensed there is really no way to shut him down, at least nothing short of a lawsuit. Some folks just can’t seem to get it together, he’s one of them. In a way I feel sorry for him, but at the same time I want to strangle him. I smoke, so I understand addiction all too well. But I refuse to let my habit interfere with my customers. He would do well to adopt the same attitude.

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