It's been a while between posts. There's been a bit going on.
After more than a year of energetic inaction, the gods smiled, the stars aligned and I gained agreement from the Body Corporate's insurer, the building service and the real estate agent to do the repairs on my bedroom ceiling. The handy offer of a friend's home while she's overseas for a month provided a firm framework of dates with the added incentive that my accommodation during the repairs would be taken care of. Previously I had been advised that the insurer saw no reason I could not live on site during the works. The "works" involve the removal of the entire plaster ceiling in my bedroom, it's replacement and then painting of the entire room. To facilitate this, all bedroom contents would be removed off site To facilitate the removal, contents from the lounge room and the kitchen would also need to be removed.
Suddenly the offer of dates, meant the real estate agent went ahead and booked everything for this week. This week I'm working for five different clients, travelling interstate, going to a concert (Keith Urban) and many other things. It's the worst possible week for me to be out of home, but after such a long wait, I didn't feel I could ask for it to be put back, even a week.
I spent my weekend organising the full wardrobe and paperwork requirements needed for the week and planning what food to take over to my temporary home. On the return from the first trip to hang my clothes and make the bed, I discovered I had a flat tyre! A woman cyclist had been waving frantically at me at an intersection. I thought she was just being friendly so I waved back. The car felt strange and I was dismayed to discover a large bolt had pierced the tyre. I did what any well-prepared girl does in this situation and called the RACV. Two hours later, Mr Chatty Sleazy man arrived.
At first glance he seemed friendly enough. Then he complimented me on my ability to do a reverse parallel park - as he looked me up and down. I was in my worst track suit pants and my hair was a fright. I just needed to get on with things. I said nothing. As he discovered that my spare tyre was bolted into the boot he told me that "we'd have to get screwing heh heh heh". Seriously. He got on with changing the tyre and then advised me that he would be going for some "massage relief" because "that's what a man needs at the end of a long hard day". Well thanks for that. Get on with changing the tyre thanks! I was very pleased that I was in my driveway and not in some isolated spot on the highway.
It's strange sleeping in someone else's house when they're not there. It was a windy night and I don't know how the house usually sounds. I didn't sleep that well.
After work yesterday I went over to my house to see where things were up to. Front door was not locked. An open can of soft drink had been left on my piano. And nothing had been removed. Everything was stacked in the lounge room, kitchen and spare room. Jackets I had hanging behind a door were lying rumpled on the ground. The pathway to the power mains that I had left in the spare room had been strewn with randomly placed things. I imagined everything covered in plaster dust and my stress levels rose. Some other thoughtful touches were the recycling bins were placed on top of clean clothes. A rug from the floor was put on top of clean linen.
I called the removal boss and gave him the feedback. He was apologetic and said everything would be rectified. I kept my thoughts about proper supervision to myself and took photos of everything instead I emailed the building guy and asked him to ensure the plaster work did not commence until everything had been covered and sealed. I hope that has happened. I haven't been able to go and check today.
I'm feeling lucky that I have somewhere to live for a month. I'm skeptical about whether everything will be fixed by Friday night and nervous about how the hell my home will be reassembled. And with a bedroom light for the first time in over a year, I'll be able to see the mess!
It could be worse. At least I have a home and a roof over my head while I'm not able to live in my home.