this might just be the summer when i finally lose it…
it’s been over a month since i found local rain in my sitting room at gerby. i sat down on my stairs and laughed hysterically, saying my summer is f*cked up, this won’t be fixed until november earliest, and i will go completely broke getting it done. no-one believed me. “oh, it’ll be a couple of weeks with drying machines, and then a week or so to get new tapestry, ceiling and flooring. don’t worry, it’ll be finished when you go on a holiday, and your insurance will cover it!”
i hate being right.
as of last week, they still haven’t found the exact leakage. my complete living room is torn apart, all furniture from there piled up in the dining room and dad’s old office room. the dining room chairs, a chandelier, a bunch of paintings, and sofa cushions are stacked in the guest room. the bathroom is nothing but walls, all stuff from there placed in the back room. my bedroom is covered with plastic, and the plastic is covered with dust from the bathroom. the kitchen is filled with stuff from the cupboard under the stairs. i have a huge hole in the middle of the hall floor (after almost falling into it a few times, i placed a board over it. after hitting my toes twice and falling into the wall once, i put one of the dining room chairs on the board. i’ve only once run into the chair. yay! victory!), and my stairs are so dirty i’ve given up on ever getting them clean again.
and i still have no running water.
the builders, plumbers and dryer blokes are all more or less dumbfounded, trying to locate the leakage. all they, and their instruments, know is that there is a hole somewhere, but as the damned pipes are all hidden in concrete, it’s a bit tricky.
and the insurance? well, they say they, and i quote, won’t say anything before they see the broken pipe(s).
i. hate. being. right.