one long fezzle
May. 7th, 2014 12:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
winterbadgerThere's a great Bert & I story, One Long Fezzle. I feel as if today has been a bit of a fezzle for me.
The local "Mr O'Reilly" was supposed to come on 22 April to look at the shed, which needs fixing. He never came, so a few days later I contacted him again (and our landlords who pay him). He instantly responded: he'd come round at 7 this morning.
Well, JMR and I accidentally got up at 7 *yesterday*. Boo. Then I got up again today at 6.30. 7.00 came, then 7.30. No sign of him, so I called his number. Yes, he had had lots of things to do. But he would come in, oh, 40 minutes or so. Oh, no, we didn't have to stay; he was just going to look at the shed and see what he needed to fix it, then email us and the landlord later.
I left to take Finn to the vet at 8.10--no sign of Mr O'Reilly. At the vet I'm told that whoever I talked to on the phone should never have made me an appointment for 8.30, as they don't do any appointments--or even have a vet on the premises--until 9.00 (they open at 8.00). I try to explain that my cat is having a lot of nervous tension because he's moved to a new house and is meeting a new cat. They say, "Oh, he's scratching? He must have fleas." No, no fleas; I know what fleas are like. I've lived with pets that have fleas. He's *nervous*. "Oh, he must have fleas; he wouldn't scratch otherwise!" *sigh* Leave detailed (three paragraph) written note for the vet.
I go to the storage space to collect more of the last few things to take home. Someone has parked a removals van in the drive-through of the storage lot, nearly blocking the exit. The office isn't open, so I can't get a dolly, so I have to carry things up from the basement by hand. Trying to leave, I have to position the car in the gap between the gate opening and the removals van, then get out and punch in the code for the electric gate because the keypad is attached to a pillar well away from where you can reach it from any car (and you have to enter your code to get out as well as in). First the car slips out of gear and tries to roll backwards over me, then the electric gate opens halfway and then closes again. Finally I get out. I try to find some place to get breakfast, fast, since I missed it at home and don't want to take the time to make it now. No luck; no drive-throughs or even 7-11s to be found, only restaurant. But because no left turns are allowed anywhere in Silver Spring, it takes forever to get nothing.
I get back home around 9.10-9.15; no sign of Mr O'Reilly. Text message from Melissa says she left around 9.00, at which point he was just rolling up. So he can't have been there long.
I quickly move the stuff from storage to the basement and take a shower, get dressed and get in the car on the way to work. 10.15. On the Beltway I find that there was a car fire eariler in the morning and the road is jammed. Signs assure drivers that two of the three lanes are closed. Everyone jostles to get into the remaining lane. Get to the scene of the fire. Nothing is in the roadway; all lanes are open. We've spent forty minutes going a few miles and suddenly everyone is driving 70mph.
Get to work at 11.30. I have an early lunch, in lieu of breakfast.
One. Long. Fezzle.
The local "Mr O'Reilly" was supposed to come on 22 April to look at the shed, which needs fixing. He never came, so a few days later I contacted him again (and our landlords who pay him). He instantly responded: he'd come round at 7 this morning.
Well, JMR and I accidentally got up at 7 *yesterday*. Boo. Then I got up again today at 6.30. 7.00 came, then 7.30. No sign of him, so I called his number. Yes, he had had lots of things to do. But he would come in, oh, 40 minutes or so. Oh, no, we didn't have to stay; he was just going to look at the shed and see what he needed to fix it, then email us and the landlord later.
I left to take Finn to the vet at 8.10--no sign of Mr O'Reilly. At the vet I'm told that whoever I talked to on the phone should never have made me an appointment for 8.30, as they don't do any appointments--or even have a vet on the premises--until 9.00 (they open at 8.00). I try to explain that my cat is having a lot of nervous tension because he's moved to a new house and is meeting a new cat. They say, "Oh, he's scratching? He must have fleas." No, no fleas; I know what fleas are like. I've lived with pets that have fleas. He's *nervous*. "Oh, he must have fleas; he wouldn't scratch otherwise!" *sigh* Leave detailed (three paragraph) written note for the vet.
I go to the storage space to collect more of the last few things to take home. Someone has parked a removals van in the drive-through of the storage lot, nearly blocking the exit. The office isn't open, so I can't get a dolly, so I have to carry things up from the basement by hand. Trying to leave, I have to position the car in the gap between the gate opening and the removals van, then get out and punch in the code for the electric gate because the keypad is attached to a pillar well away from where you can reach it from any car (and you have to enter your code to get out as well as in). First the car slips out of gear and tries to roll backwards over me, then the electric gate opens halfway and then closes again. Finally I get out. I try to find some place to get breakfast, fast, since I missed it at home and don't want to take the time to make it now. No luck; no drive-throughs or even 7-11s to be found, only restaurant. But because no left turns are allowed anywhere in Silver Spring, it takes forever to get nothing.
I get back home around 9.10-9.15; no sign of Mr O'Reilly. Text message from Melissa says she left around 9.00, at which point he was just rolling up. So he can't have been there long.
I quickly move the stuff from storage to the basement and take a shower, get dressed and get in the car on the way to work. 10.15. On the Beltway I find that there was a car fire eariler in the morning and the road is jammed. Signs assure drivers that two of the three lanes are closed. Everyone jostles to get into the remaining lane. Get to the scene of the fire. Nothing is in the roadway; all lanes are open. We've spent forty minutes going a few miles and suddenly everyone is driving 70mph.
Get to work at 11.30. I have an early lunch, in lieu of breakfast.
One. Long. Fezzle.
