Wednesday 16th Issues
I woke up Wednesday the 16, 2012 at about 6 to my idiot tenant's alarm clock going off. Nonstop. I'm amazingly lucky, so I went back to sleep. At 7, I woke and it was still going off. I'm irate, but this has never happened before, so not too big of a deal. We'll have a chat and it won't happen again. So I walk into the living room, and the beeping is a smidgen louder. Nothing in my living room beeps. I even check the game systems, just to be sure. Nope.
I go back into the bedroom and Mike snarks, "check the basement." So I do. And there is a fire alarm that has wonked out. And like most fire alarms, it has a button that you can press to make it not go off for 15 minutes. No sir. It's not working...well. Holding it down isn't working, either. I have to press it every second. So I start walking up the stairs, syncing my steps and my presses - because it's a fire alarm. It's fucking loud. I get to Mike and yelp, "halp!" He takes it, and of course, it immediately goes off. My problem is I need to get the battery out, right? But there is a lock on the back that I cannot get off while I continue pressing the button! Mike doesn't have his contacts in...pretty well disastrous. At this point, I'm trying to convince Mike to just break it, but that isn't working either (so be reassured). So I continue pressing the button, and he eventually squeezes the correct two parts that will allow the lock to turn and come off. Battery out, and all is right with the world. I know we woke up the tenants, but ugly things happen in a time of war.
So I go into the kitchen and look out the window...and there are LOTS of dudes in our front yard. My front yard is a tiny hill of maybe 10 feet. Not many people can even FIT in my front yard. Long story short, Mike and I are switching from oil heat to natural gas at the street. The gas company assured me they'd contact us before the diggers came, so our contractors could talk, we could plan, whatever. That plan is totally shot. Which sucks - my tenants both work third shift. I walk outside and there is already a HUGE ditch in the yard. And what looks like a TON of rock (ledge is what I think they called it). Managers are coming over to investigate the rock. Not MY problem. Except that my contract says that I may have to pay for unforseen circumstances like giant boulders. And I STILL need to contact Unitil and complain about this (not the extra $$$ for the rock, it'll all be worth it in the end).
Get past the crazy morning and go to work. Lunchtime P90X (week 3, day 1). DVD player kidnaps my DVD and won't give it back. I didn't get it back for 2 more days of fighting with the machine.
Clearly, it's all a sign. Unfortunately, I don't read "universe."
I go back into the bedroom and Mike snarks, "check the basement." So I do. And there is a fire alarm that has wonked out. And like most fire alarms, it has a button that you can press to make it not go off for 15 minutes. No sir. It's not working...well. Holding it down isn't working, either. I have to press it every second. So I start walking up the stairs, syncing my steps and my presses - because it's a fire alarm. It's fucking loud. I get to Mike and yelp, "halp!" He takes it, and of course, it immediately goes off. My problem is I need to get the battery out, right? But there is a lock on the back that I cannot get off while I continue pressing the button! Mike doesn't have his contacts in...pretty well disastrous. At this point, I'm trying to convince Mike to just break it, but that isn't working either (so be reassured). So I continue pressing the button, and he eventually squeezes the correct two parts that will allow the lock to turn and come off. Battery out, and all is right with the world. I know we woke up the tenants, but ugly things happen in a time of war.
So I go into the kitchen and look out the window...and there are LOTS of dudes in our front yard. My front yard is a tiny hill of maybe 10 feet. Not many people can even FIT in my front yard. Long story short, Mike and I are switching from oil heat to natural gas at the street. The gas company assured me they'd contact us before the diggers came, so our contractors could talk, we could plan, whatever. That plan is totally shot. Which sucks - my tenants both work third shift. I walk outside and there is already a HUGE ditch in the yard. And what looks like a TON of rock (ledge is what I think they called it). Managers are coming over to investigate the rock. Not MY problem. Except that my contract says that I may have to pay for unforseen circumstances like giant boulders. And I STILL need to contact Unitil and complain about this (not the extra $$$ for the rock, it'll all be worth it in the end).
Get past the crazy morning and go to work. Lunchtime P90X (week 3, day 1). DVD player kidnaps my DVD and won't give it back. I didn't get it back for 2 more days of fighting with the machine.
Clearly, it's all a sign. Unfortunately, I don't read "universe."