Nothing to See Here ... Move Along

Because the heater repairman was scheduled to come at 6:30 on Wednesday, I got about 5 1/2 hours of sleep the night before.  For no damn reason whatsoever, I got about 5 1/2 hours of sleep last night.

That's not enough sleep.

OK -- now, you've read the previous entry, right?  Where there's no A/C power to my alarm, and I call the alarm guy and he says the transformer is in the crawl space, and I can't jump into the crawl space, so I call a handyman, right?

The handyman didn't call me back.  Eventually, I got the brilliant idea of calling the heater repair guy -- on the theory that he must have knocked it out when he was fixing the heater yesterday.


Heater repair guy said he'd come back.


Then the handyman returned my call.  I said, thanks anyway but the heater repair guy would take care of it.


(Insert random packing all through this.  Insert the discovery that although my brilliant plan to upgrade my transatlantic flights does, in fact, allow me to check two 23 kg bags, the tiny little flights from London to Dublin (and back) want to charge me $18.75.  That's not per bag, my friends, that's per kilo over 20 kg.  (Plus a per bag fee.)  I'm looking at about $400 in baggage fees.  Each way.  Insert also my even more brilliant plan to just leave one of the damn bags at left luggage in Heathrow -- for a much more civilized $100.)


OK, so, heater repair guy shows up and tells me he was never in the crawl space.  (Dude, you might've told me this over the phone, saving you the trip and me two hours.)


I call the handyman back.


By the time the handyman arrives -- to review -- I've popped my head in the crawl space about 3 times, but couldn't pull my sorry ass up there; a (taller) friend tried; and the heater repair guy came out and said he hadn't been in the crawl space so couldn't have caused the problem.


Handyman joins the club of people who've poked their heads in my crawl space.  He even jumps all the way in (has a taller ladder) and has a good poke around there.  He can't see an unplugged transformer.


I point out where the alarm power cord appears to run right up into the ceiling from the inside of my closet.


Handyman says, "let's follow the other end of this."


About 30 seconds later we're both looking under my bed.  Where the alarm plug is sitting on the floor, next to the outlet behind my headboard.


(Normally, this is where the story would end.  But for me?  Today?  Oh no.)


I apologize profusely and comment on how I can't believe I was that freakin' stupid.  Handyman (in a massive "face saving" gesture to me) says that the plug should really be screwed into the wall so it doesn't fall out again.  He does this.  


As long as I'm paying for him, I ask if he could fix some of the other stuff on my "list of things to ask the handyman to do next time he's out here."  I ask if he can fix the bathroom towel bar, which is very loose (and while tightening it with the allen wrench used to work, it's past that now).  Indeed, it was way past that.  The itty bitty set screw was totally stripped (and stuck).  The only real solution was to replace this thing with a whole new towel bar.


There's a Bed Bath & Beyond about 3 minutes away.  I give the handyman a list of things to keep him occupied (security lock on slider; grouting on the kitchen counters), grab my purse (and the Bed Bath & Beyond coupon from today's mail) and hit the road.


Find a towel bar the same size and finish.  It isn't as cool-looking as the last one, but, y'know, it's a brushed nickel 24-inch double-hanging towel bar -- this isn't the time to complain about style.


I take it and my coupon to the register.  There's no line.  The nice man rings me up and it is at this point I realize that I left my wallet at home.


I shouldn't be operating heavy machinery today; I really shouldn't.