The Shady Repair Dude

After running our shower, we would hear this crazy dripping behind our wall, and water would seep through a hole and pool in a corner on the ledge of the tub.  After a while, moisture in the bathroom caused the linoleum to lift off of the floor in one big sheet, so that when you walked it would flap up – it was really strange and more of an annoyance because it was still secured around the edges.  We were worried that the moisture was working against the integrity of the wall and flooring… I actually remember years ago when my sister was taking a shower and her tub randomly fell through the floor with her in it.  Mobile homes don’t have a great reputation for being sturdy, so when something’s wrong you wanna get it fixed pretty quickly.

So when the work on my mother-in-law’s washroom was finished (oddly, the floor in the washroom of her house has had a reoccurring moisture problem) she sent the guy who had been working on that and her deck down here to fix our stuff for us.  I was a bit uncomfortable, I’ll admit, because Cy had to close that night, which meant I’d be here alone all day with a strange guy coming in and out.  He seemed nice enough though, and I had a lot of school work to do, so I figured he could do his thing in there and I could sit in here and get my psychology on.

Now, I didn’t realize that Cy wasn’t that happy about leaving me here alone.  He didn’t admit that until the next day.  The guy seemed nice enough, but he had already noticed that the guy kept putting his shirt on and taking it off.  ”It’s not that hot, especially inside.”  I’m pretty gullible, get taken advantage of, and oblivious.  I hadn’t even noticed.  I really wasn’t even paying attention to what the guy was talking about a lot of times when he was talking, or the fact that he was sitting in the living room talking to me instead of working – I was more annoyed that I wasn’t able to do my work than anything.  Yes though – after my husband left, this guy who’s supposed to be fixing my bathroom spent most of his time sitting in my living room talking to me.  Yes, the things in the bathroom got fixed.  He did more than he originally quoted, too – including reinstalling my toilet, which hadn’t been done correctly when they put in a new one and it had actually been leaking underneath – ew!

Later though, after he left, I started thinking of some of what he was saying, and I started getting mad.  Firstly, he talked a lot about his ex, which in itself is fine, but it obviously turned him against women in general.  Don’t talk to a woman about how you don’t trust any woman.  Also don’t tell a woman that any man who works a closing shift is getting cheated on when her husband is closing and you’re working in her home, especially when you keep putting your shirt on just to take it off (and he left it on the counter).  I really wish I had been actually fully listening to him instead of trying to work on my school work, though I wonder if I’d have had the courage to call him on his ass-hattery… Here he is in MY house… sure, technically I’m wasn’t the one paying  him but still he was doing the work for me, should you have talked to me like that?  I don’t think so.  When he was actually in the bathroom he kept getting me to drop everything and go in there to look at what he was doing, too.  I really doubt that my mother-in-law had to look at every board he laid to fix her deck.  By the end of the night he was calling me “sweetheart,” and of course he overcharged.  He probably realized that he wouldn’t be hired back, especially if I said anything.   Which I did.

Too, since he left we’ve had nothing but trouble from our air conditioner.  I don’t know if it’s coincidence or what, but he noticed we had fuzz coming out of our air vents.  We’ve always lived in places that had filters we couldn’t even access to change, so he showed me where the filter is in this place and how to get the grate off (it was rusted together).  It was filthy, so it hadn’t been changed in forever.  He cleaned the cover, and since we didn’t have a replacement filter, cleaned the filter, dried it best he could, and put it back, telling me as he did so, “I fix air conditioners too.”  It has leaked into the floor since (it’s an indoor unit).  Cy’s step-dad has cut away insulation from under the home because it was holding water and that would destroy the floors.  Yes, back to the floors!  For now, it’s still broken.  Just calling someone who used to work on them, it would entail removing the whole furnace/air conditioner unit to find whatever’s clogging the drain and fix it.  Meanwhile, it’s either roast or put up with a river of water in our floor.  We’re just lucky that we’ve had a much cooler season than usual.  Window units are an option, as well, but those are a hassle and expensive too :\

Cy thinks repair dude (Steve) did something to sabotage the a/c.  I was watching him the whole time, but… I’m an idiot with this stuff, too.  After all, it took me until the next day to catch what all he said and get mad :(   I felt so silly for thinking he was trying to be friendly, and he really wasn’t being nice at all… especially overcharging so severely for subpar work… Example – when he hooked the washer back up, he didn’t even turn the water back on, and had the water hookups reversed!  Cy had to pull the washer out and do it again!

Tonight the optimism well is dryish

Positivity is generally a strong point of mine, even in the low points.  I’m very good at finding that silver lining, and even though I’ve been known to get down there’s always been this undying resolve that someday things would get better.  Admittedly, there were times I started to wonder about that… but indeed better days came along.  Things got even better after Cy and I married, despite the layoff.

Lately though… man.  2013 has been pretty rough, especially financially, to put it mildly.  It seemed like it was going to be great, since just before my birthday we were given a home.  We were like yay!  No payments, no rent – we’re going to be so much better off financially!  On paper we should be, but we’ve had an avalanche of issues since.  For one, the weekend after we moved in the brake system in my car exploded.  Over $400 later the issue still isn’t resolved, my instrument panel is still lit up, I have no anti-lock brakes (plus now my windshield seal is coming off, some belt is whining, every now and then the oil pressure warning starts going off though it has oil, and it is creeping up toward 180k miles).

Our mother-in-law’s sewage was having issues, and as a result of that and a local abandoned mine collapse her deck needed repair, so after that was finished the guy who was working on that came down to work on our bathroom – the faucet was leaking pretty bad, and there were some other things that needed done in the bathroom – the toilet needed re-installed, apparently it hadn’t been installed correctly, for example, and he caulked around the tub, and I dunno what all really.  He grossly over-charged for his work, but that’s another story all together.  He ended up cleaning the filter on the a/c while he was here, and for some reason after he left… the a/c started leaking into the floor (it’s an indoor unit).  We’re talking gallons of water into the floor a day.  To call a repair man in for this would be astronomical, because from what we’re told to repair this would require taking the entire a/c / furnace unit out of the wall to find the issue.  Cy’s step-dad has been down several times, crawled into the crawl-space to get under the house and poke holes into the insulation to drain the excess water out, try to find ways to make a new drain… he’s ended up drilling holes through the areas the water pools in the unit, hoping it will drain from there directly through to the crawlspace.

Summer classes started and I found myself in 3 classes for the first term.  It didn’t take me long to fall behind in Law, because it was a highly accelerated class flying through more than one module in a week.  My psychology classes are full 8 week classes, whereas the Law class covered 8 weeks worth of material in 3.5 weeks.  Yeah.  I did well in the first module, but ended up completely missing the second because I had to focus on my psychology classes.  I went to my case worker, in a nervous fit, who told me to drop it.  By the time I got the paper work filled out… it was past the point in the term to avoid a penalty to drop it!  The university charged me $150 to do so.  Yeah.  I’m going to mention it to my case worker, since they had insisted I be full time (then some people are only half time), but I doubt they’ll reimburse me for the $150 and that’ll need to be paid by next semester.

I’ve tried to push through my anxiety and work on being more outgoing.  That’s pretty much ended up like it always does, with me feeling rejected.  I’m always good enough for a few minutes, but rarely good enough for more.  I agonize over sending Facebook friend requests (something that most people probably don’t think about).  That outgoing spurt pretty much came to a screeching halt.

That’s not even getting into the injuries Cy has had, with spraining his knee and being out of work for days (and all the medical bills from that, because there was a suspected torn ligament with all the swelling that came from that and the loud POP it made)… and then two weeks later he stepped on a nail, which wouldn’t have been that bad if his whole foot hadn’t swollen up and gotten really hot, resulting in my taking him to the emergency room (and his missing more work).  Mishaps and accidents at work… he’s always banged up.  Then there’s my medical bills.

Through it all I’ve tried to stay pretty optimistic.  Things will work out!  That, too, came to a screeching halt tonight.  I was in Wal-Mart and pulled up my Mint.com app to get an idea of how much I could spend – wondering if I could grab Cy a surprise pack of socks or not, since the laundry monsters are robbing him blind and he’s down to around 3 pairs.  I was actually standing there looking at socks, fought back a panic attack as I saw that we only had $17, grabbed only what I had intended to get, socks not included, and put it on his credit card to be safe.  I had forgotten that my unemployment check would be late.  There was a lady who was doing them for those of us on Trade, and for some reason she didn’t do them for us this month… so when I tried to claim my check on Sunday it wouldn’t go through.  I had to wait until Monday to contact her since the website was messed up for the review, and she took care of it… but since it takes overnight to “set in” I had to wait until the next day to claim my check.  Claiming 3 days late makes your payment 3 days late.

Then of course, when I came home I found myself standing in water from the a/c.   We’re gonna have to either do without, figure out some way to get it fixed, or figure out some way to get window units.  The way it is now is going to destroy our floors (from above and below).

I feel like giving up and saying 2013 wins but in reality that’s not in me.  Things will likely get better, I just don’t have the energy to feel optimistic right now.  Sometimes it just feels like I’ve been telling myself that for so long… meh.

Daddy’s Little Girl

It started with a commercial for a certain brand of shaving cream.  When I was a little girl, my daddy shaved with Barbasol.  I don’t know if he was particularly fond of the brand, if it was cheap, or what, but I even remember getting it for him for Christmas and wrapping it.  He pretended to have no idea what could be, and of course was extremely happy to have such an extremely awesome gift.

It’s so odd, thinking back to those days.  I was such a Daddy’s Girl.  He’d pick me up and plop me on the sink.  I’d squirt the shaving cream in my hands and pat it on his face, then play with what was left on my hands as he shaved.  Looking back on it, we spent so much time together.  Later, all that happiness was turned into bitterness.  It’s sad that now we have trouble finding things to talk about.  I’ve seen him less than a handfull of times in the last five years, and when we’re around each other it’s very uncomfortable.

When two people just can’t get along, really, they shouldn’t try to stay together for the sake of a child.  That’s what happened with me.  They stayed together for my sake, and the bitterness brewed until things were just bitterly broken.  They never divorced, is the funny thing, and I never have understood why.  Was it spite?  Mom wanted to at first, but filing in Kentucky was more expensive, and dad somehow never made it to the courthouse in Ohio.  Later, when they had a way to to it cheaply, they just shrugged it off.  Maybe they were too bitter by then to care.

My parents wouldn’t fight in front of me, at least when I was little.  They would get in a car and drive around or something, and that’s what happened one night when I was 4 (I think my sister was home watching me).  I remember my dad coming in, and going straight into the bedroom, not talking.  I knew something was wrong, and followed him.  I kept begging him to talk to me.  I sat on the bed next to his suitcase as he packed it begging him to talk to me, and he said nothing.  I don’t know when I started crying, asking where he was going.  He left without ever talking, saying bye, saying anything.

Mom couldn’t calm me down that night, and ended up going out and looking for him.  She’d kicked him out during their drive, basically telling him to make the choice between getting a job or leaving – he’d chosen to leave.  He’d chosen to not say anything to me, and not tell me goodbye.  Then, though, she also chose to go get him back, and (in her words, later) “put up with” 8 more years of his “bullshit” before we left and moved to Kentucky when I was 12.

I was still close to him for a few years after that, but that night has always haunted me.  Of course, other things happened as well, but that seems to stand out as some sort of defining moment.  I could probably break it down and analyze it, look at it from different angles – especially now as I near my Bachelor’s in Psychology… but I don’t want to.  I don’t want to know why my dad would choose to leave over trying, or why it’s so hard for him to say he loves me, or why it’s so hard for us to talk now.  I just wish I could go back to sitting on the counter, playing with the shaving cream.

I really wish they didn’t play Barbasol commercials so much while Cy gets his baseball fix.