From a tickle to a rash

The merry-go-round has started… between the damage evaluator, the insurance estimator, the contractor and even some neighbours; our place feels busy of the late.

Last night, while relaxing watching some pre-recorded show on television, Hubby mentioned the timing of all this sucked. I didn’t say anything, but my brain was screaming: “Oh yeah, it would have been much better next week, after the vet’s appointment!” I do understand what he means; just we were really starting to feel at home here, this happens. We had finally found the light fixture we wanted which was not only looking good, but was also generating enough light for us to see, without going into too much details, all we needed to see while standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom. It took us over a good year of trials and searches to feel like we had not only a home, but also a refuge. Our refuge. The place where we were protected from them (‘them’ being the morons)… or so we thought. Despite our best effort, no matter how much we resisted, they did manage to infiltrate our refuge.

We like to be home, just the two of us, and having this incident, will not only create a lot of “brouhaha”, but also a lot of work. Today alone, Hubby lost over two hours of billable time to be here to meet with the appraiser, and a contractor. That time and money represent a lost for us, which no insurance will cover. When they will start the work, since it is mostly gyproc damages, it will be Hell. The amount of dust and crap this stuff generates is like a baby the first few months of its life, i.e. lots of craps for something so little.

I do want to apply the Law of the Garbage Truck; life being ten percent what you make it and ninety percent how you take it, but at times, I swear…