Do you ever do this? Do you ever wake up at some ridiculous time, like…say…4am, and then can’t go back to sleep because the anticipation of the worst the day has to bring is racing thru your head and all you can do is set up terrible scenarios in your head and come up with solutions while thinking about how tired you’re going to be when you actually need all the energy you possibly can get and how you need more sleep but have to be up in a couple of hours and so know that you’re probably not likely to get any more sleep and know that by the late afternoon you’ll feel absolutely shattered and probably need to monitor your even tempered-ness?
Yeah, I know you know what I’m talking about.
So the adventure begins on very little sleep and, by 8am, there were three of the loveliest ladies at my door with lists and boxes and paper and plastic and packing tape, and proceeded to set to work packing up the rooms on the main floor of the house. With good cheer and a continued supply of Sbux tea and cookies, (courtesy of me), they packed up most of my stuff by 2pm. The wonderful Tracey, (image below), ordered the movers in for 1am and personally packed away all my fragile crystal and china. So lucky to have her be part of this crew. The movers arrived at 1pm; five cheerful strong guys and began shrink wrapping the antiques in blankets and cling film, cataloguing everything on corresponding tags and sheets and sheets of lists and carefully wrangling my precious furniture into the container on the moving van where it would be sealed and not opened till its return. And so far, all it cost me was tea, cookies, glasses of water and a granola bar or two and very little stress.
And then, just because things couldn’t possibly go that well, my flooring company people called to say they were sorry but the floor will be delivered a little later than they thought at 1:30 pm. I said that I thought that would be interesting because the movers had just arrived at 1pm. The flooring company people said “oh boy”.
Hmmm, what did that mean?
Well, I’ll tell you what that meant. It meant that the floor delivery people would stand in the middle of my house, in the middle of the mayhem of movers and packers and loudly swear and threaten that they will not give up their Friday night beer and plans, will not work past 3pm, will murder their dispatcher…etc…
To say that C and I were not impressed was an understatement. And here’s my mistake: I took charge and responsibility! I called my project manager who did not answer his phone. I called his emergency immediate assistance assistant, again voice mail. I called the floor people and was told that the project manager was in a conference with the floor manager. OK then.
What I should have done, what Robert told me later that I should have done, and, had he still been here what he would have done, is to take C and me by the hand and walk right out of my house, gone to Sbux and let them all sort it out.
Actually, what happened next is the project manager called Tracey and then called me back and while I was talking to him on the phone, the Fantastic Tracey sorted the floor delivery guy’s face right out and suddenly the floor guys were saying things like, “oh well, we all have to cooperate and get stuff done, don’t we?”
So there you go, one displaced little family, one empty house, one load of new hardwood flooring, two exhausted girls, two freaked out cats and 13 more days to go.
…but at the end of the day no one was killed, so that’s good news.