At lunch, I headed to the house to meet someone who wanted to turn our gas on. The only thing that is gas powered in the house is the water heater. It's kind of important. The National Grid worker gave me a call and let me know he was on his way, so I put up some more joint compound in the bathroom while I waited.
I took a peek outside and saw his truck at the curb when my phone rang. It was the fellow sitting in the truck. He informed me that he had just been called to fix a gas leak somewhere and thus, he wouldn't be turning on the gas right then. Sweet. After I explained that I can't just sit in the house all day wondering when he would be done and come back, as I have a job, he said he would try to send one of the second shift workers sometime after 5. I was not confident.
I told Amanda, who would hopefully be home from work by 5, to kindly sit and wait for the gas man to come by. She agreed, as she enjoys showers.
After work, I headed to the U-Haul rental place in lovely North Providence. I really dislike Branch Ave. After some frustrating driving, I walked into the facility to be greeted by an ultra homosexual man who rolled his eyes when he saw me coming in. I immediately felt bad for this obviously over worked man in an empty self storage facility who didn't have the time to help a paying customer. Realizing what an incredible and possibly unfair burden I was placing on this champion for hard work, I made it quick.
I explained what I needed (which was all in the reservation I made earlier), he swore his way through the paperwork (I'm not kidding, he said effword many times when looking around for things), and he handed me the keys to a bright and shiny (read: old and big) 10 foot moving truck. I left the man to his hand sanitizer (two bottles) hopped in the truck and was on my way to the Sears in Taunton, where my stove, range hood and dishwasher awaited (two of which I can't plug in. Thanks Ron).
During the bouncy ride, I got a call from the gas company and they let me know that they were on their way to the house. I called Amanda to warn her of their impending arrival, and when she picked up the phone, it sounded like she was at a party or something. She was at a party of sorts, but not the kind that anyone with ears wants to be at. She was lucky enough to be talking to our crazy neighbors. It was her first meeting. She was not disappointed.
I got the appliances, drove home and we dragged them into the house. The hot water worked and there was a man skim coating the ceiling of our first floor bathroom. Good progress.
After dinner, Amanda sanded some wood trim in the living room and I started using some of that paint removing goo on the window trim. I used that sweet Ryobi radio to listen (no cable yet. Thanks again Electrician Ron) to the Celtics get a win and an hour after that, I was almost finished. Using a painter's tool, I was scraping the last window casing when the blade slipped and the pointed corner of the tool stabbed me in the finger. Bleeding, I decided that this was a good time to end the day. Here's the offending tool, with a warning that should be on the packaging:
In short, lots got done, I bled a little and we can take hot showers now.
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