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Saturday, February 25, 2012

For want of a couch

A mind was lost. 

After many weeks of searching, I finally found a new sofa.  I really liked it - it 'spoke' to me.  It was purple with deep seated cushions.  I named her Sheila.  Sheila was delivered to my home last Friday at 9am.  I had cleaned and organized my living room and made a new home for Sheila.  I was looking forward to a deeply rewarding relationship where I would spend Sunday afternoons curled up on Sheila with a good book.

Sheila disappointed me.  She would not willingly go up my stairs to the living room.  She had decided in the 3 days since our first meeting that she did not want to come and live with me so she grew an additional 3 inches ensuring that she would not fit.  Too bad for her.  She was sent packing back to the warehouse and my search began again.

The following day after this debacle of embarassment, I found myself heading to IKEA with a friend.  In the very first showroom, I found her.  She had been waiting there all along for me to come by to claim her.  I named her Shelley.  She was the right length, having guaranteed me she would not grow any longer, had the right ass to knee ratio and the perfect firmness.   Not to mention, Shelley met the aforementioned "sick factor".  Shelley also was available in various colours.  She chose red.  I was very excited.  Finally, my home would have a perfect red sofa with the perfect red seat and the perfect red length.  She was to be delivered the next morning.

Sheldon arrived in my home at 10:30am.  Turns out Shelley has a brother who is slightly longer, slightly firmer and slightly redder.  I was not aware that Shelley sent Sheldon to our home until I finished building him 2 hours later and I was left scratching my head trying to figure out what was wrong.  Don't get me wrong, I like Sheldon but he's no Shelley.  However, having now spent a week with him, I can admit that Sheldon does provide me with the comfort needed for a couch cuddle on a Sunday afternoon.  Sheldon also meets the required "sick factor", just not quite as softly as Shelley did.  Ah well, I will get used to him and learn to enjoy his comfort for the next 10 years.

After Sheldon made himself at home, I was packed off for a week in Toronto.  I was not looking forward to it.  I had nightmares about someone stepping on the recovering toe or jostling my healing rib.  Not to mention, I was not looking forward to the long days, the longer nights and the cold.  Also, I have yet to have a trip to the centre of the universe that went well.  Turns out, this was not to be the trip.

So I arrived at the centre of the universe at 1:30am and at my hotel by 2:15am after having a heated discussion with the airline personnel over the damage to my luggage.  Seems it is a problem of someone else or possibly I, myself, ripped my bag before loading it.  I wasn't even angry.  I figured that if that was the worst that was going to happen then I could live with it.  In essence, I was lulled into a false sense of security thinking the rest of my trip would go off without a hitch.

Day one of meetings ensued without a problem.  I slept better that night and was refreshed for another round of meetings.  I arrived at the office at 8:45am ready to go.  I set up my laptop and books and headed to the kitchen to grab a cup of tea.  I popped a piece of gum in my mouth while I waited for my tea to ready.  Just as I was turning to leave, I felt something happen.

You may recall the dentist who broke my tooth during a routine root canal.  As you may also recall, that tooth finally broke right in half during my last trip to Toronto.  Well, the tooth beside that one was a false post.  A $1200 false post.  Seems it was being helped in place by the broken tooth.  Seems that a piece of Juicy Fruit gum was a dangerous weapon for me to have.  The tooth, post and all,  just fell right out.  I now have a problem and everytime I was to speak up during the meeting it had to be behind a hand over my mouth.  Tough to look commanding with a hole in my face.

Anyway, I made it through the day without anyone being the wiser.  I thought that was the end of it.  One damaged suitcase, one broken tooth.  That should be the end of it.

The following morning I awoke thinking I could face another round of meetings and then head home.  Turns out, when lulled into the false sense of security thinking the worst is over, one does not pay as much attention to ones surroundings.  So, imagine my surprise to discover that there was a new 2 inch rise on the shower in my hotel room.  I think they must have added it while I was at the office the day before because I was sure I managed to step into my shower without a problem the day before.  I slammed my broken toe into the side and my cheek into the wall and as I tried to gain my purchase before I did any more damage, I broke two nails - just to add insult to injury.

My flight home took 7 hours.  It was supposed to be 5hrs, 15minutes.

I am home for a week and then back to the centre of the universe on the 4th for another week of adventure.  I will be truly amazed and may even start to believe in miracles if it is uneventful and I return home in time for my granddaughter's 6th birthday in one piece.

Stay tuned

Saturday, February 11, 2012

The Sick Factor

So I was finally able to drive today.  I can look over my shoulder and turn right now.  The rib is starting to heal nicely.  The stupid toe though is another matter.  How come you always stub your toes when they are hurt?  I swear, I can actually feel my heart beating in my toe.

Anyway, with the world at my feet on a Saturday, I ventured outdoors.  I am in search of a living room sofa.  While we are settling in nicely into our new home and it is starting to come together, missing living room furniture makes it feel somewhat empty. 

I had found a liquidation sale of living room and kitchen furniture.  I ventured inside to see if it was cheap stuff at a cheap price or decent stuff at a reasonable price.  I have been to four stores and always have the same problem.  I cannot locate a sofa with the 'sick' factor.

I always start the conversation with the salesman the same way.  "I don't know exactly what I want but I will know it when I see it,  I do know it has to have the sick factor though."  They always look at me the same way as if they are going to humor me as I am obviously slightly touched in the head or they have misheard me and don't want to admit it.  "It CANNOT be leather," I say.

The Sick Factor will not allow for a leather couch.  The sick factor = when you are home sick from work and don't want to lay in bed any longer, isolated from the world, you want to lay on the couch and be comfortable while you are sick.  You cannot get comfortable on a leather couch when you are sick.  You will slide around and make crinkly noises when you move.  How can one possibly dose on a leather sofa when one is ill?  Perhaps it would be different if I had a budget for the really soft and wonderful leather but I happen to be on a beer budget so the leather I get shown is most likely pleather which is the noisiest of all the leathers.

I found a sofa that I might like.  It hit right at knees and it met the sick factor but it was a kind of gun metal grey that I might have difficulty living with later.  I found another sofa that I really liked and it met all the sick factor requirements but it was lime green.  Both were the right size for my living room.  If there was a way to meet in the middle somewhere I might be happy.

I didn't realize buying a sofa would be so problematic.  I chose my wedding dress in less time - both of them.  Now that I think about it, that might have been part of the problem.  Perhaps if I spent more time searching out the perfect dress, I might have had better luck in the marriage department.  Actually, the more I really think of it, perhaps if I had spent the same amount of time searching for a husband as I have for this stupid sofa, things would have turned out better.

I can divulge that at the last furniture store, the liquidation centre, the salesman thought perhaps I would prefer a love seat since I mentioned the small space.  He kept leading me towards these leather sofas and I kept saying no and please don't show me anymore of them when he decided that leather was not my problem, the sofa was the problem and he pulled me down onto this butt ugly loveseat.  I almost fell in his lap.  He explained that quite often, women like me (what the frack??) prefer the loveseat style for those cozy nights in front of the fire.  He gave me his card and told me to call him, with a wink.  What the hell does that mean?  Genreally speaking though, I would rather poke my eye out with a fork.

Anyway, I will be hitting a few more stores next weekend when I can turn left left so I will keep you posted on the search for the perfect sofa.

Stay tuned

Monday, February 6, 2012

Been Stoopid Crazy Busy

Sorry it has been so long since my last posting.

After I recovered from the fear of death from the flu of hell, I started to dig right in to the new year.  Right off the bat it was trying to find a new place to live in the same neighborhood.  The Realtor of our complex kept calling me and urging me to let him in as our place was the "most desirable" in the complex.  I am afraid I was not a good tennent by the time he tried the 3rd time.  I was getting cranky.  I finally had a meeting with the young man in the courtyard and explained this was our home and I work 120 hours a week (ok, might have stretched it a bit but sometimes it feels like I do) and when I get home, all I wanted to do was put on my ratty pajamas and wait for food to arrive in front of me.  He offered to buy me a robe.

Well, I got lucky (not in the traditional sense - too bad).  I happened to have located a pretty perfect place about 250 feet down the road.  It has a roof top deck that is pretty cool.  There is a pod bay door that opens in the ceiling and out you hop on to the roof.  I signed the lease and we were ready to go.  I began to scrounge dumpsters for boxes and started to pack.  It was a good time to downsize and I made 4 trips to the goodwill.  I changed all my addresses, booked a week of holiday, booked a moving company and had everything good to go for our move day of January 31st.

The trouble began at approximately 6:30pm on January 30th.  I was taking our ratty, broken down kitchen chairs out to the garbage bin.  I was carefully making my way down the outside stairs when it happened.  Not sure exactly HOW it happened - even now I am not sure.  It happened so fast.  First I had the chair in front of me and the next thing I knew I was flying through the air and landing, face first, on the bricks at the bottom of the stairs.  I felt pain and knew instantly that I had broken yet another toe (not my first so I feel qualified to self diagnose).  AND THEN,  I felt a new pain as I tried to roll over.  My rib cage was a giant ball of fire.  I layed there for about 15 minutes before I was finally able to get up.  A neighbor later said she heard the crash and saw the chair go flying but due to where I was laying, she didn't see me. 

I hobbled back inside and decided to just lay down for a bit.  Well, by 8:30pm, I realized that I had more than a broken toe and a sore rib cage.  I couldn't sit up without crying and breathing was a difficulty.  Not lilke I could ask my brother to help me as he is mobile only with the assistance of crutches however, after he finished shaking his head in disgust and asking if I will finally conceede what the family has long known - I am a genuine KLUTZ, he would drive me to the hospital.

He dropped me off and went home to await the inevitable call asking what he wanted to do about the body.  Holy Crap On A Cracker, I was in pain.  After the x-rays they had me taken care of pretty quick.  I had been worried that the same doctor I saw the last time I cracked my rib and he wouldn't be able to treat me properly due to his laughter.  Instead, I had a very nice, very good looking, young doctor who felt it his duty to explain how when you reach middle age, your bones do not heal as well.  I think he mistook the stunned expression on my face for rapt attention.

I survived the night with the help of some aptly named pain killers.  However, I was left wondering what to do about the move.  The movers were to arrive at 9am.  I needed time just to lever myself out of bed.  In addition to the 2 movers, whom I was so grateful to have hired, we had one friend who was not working that day to assist.  The movers arrived and I saw by their expression that something was wrong.  I had very specifically stated that we lived in a 2 bedroom, three level townhouse, lots of stairs, but they wouldn't have to move a sofa as I already sold it.  I guess the guy taking the information figured that it was a small job as he only booked us for 4 hours.  The mover (Bruce) said it was going to take much longer than they had.  I began to stress.  Kris is on crutches, I was wearing a sling and limping and it was raining.  Personally, my first thought was to check my fire insurance policy and then light a match to the whole thing.

I won't bore you with the horrid details of the worst move on earth but suffice to say, by the end of the day, with the movers long gone by 1:30 (taking my $600 with them), I was standing in a mess of rain soaked boxes and contemplating how I was going to get the rest of our stuff (turned out to be 8 other car loads) out of old place before the carpet cleaners showed up at 11am.  My landlord had already given us an extra day to move and I had to turn the keys in at 5pm on the 1st.  I had taken so many pain killers all day that my head was swimming and I was pretty sure I was constipated.

We finally managed to get everything out and the carpets cleaned and I headed to our new home limping pathetically along the street.  I pushed my way through the front door and stood in the middle of armeggedon.  My friend Heather had come over and set my bed up for me and Kris's friend came to make a path to his room and get his bed set up.  We now had another problem.  We had both bathrooms stacked with boxes and for reasons not quite understood, my Christmas tree in the bathtub.  I had to get the boxes moved so that we could at least do our business without having to run to the chinese restraurant all the time.  I had left the hospital with 1 cracked rib, one broken and one broken toe.  Moving those boxes turned the cracked rib into a broken rib and I crumbled like a sack of sand to the floor.  Kris told me to stop being so stupid.  He better watch it.  One of these days I am gonna hide his crutches and then tell him to stop whinning.

By thursday, Kris and I had no food and needed to go shopping.  Thankfully, our local store delivers if you shop and pay for it first.  So, off we went.  Understand, because we are downtown, everywhere you go you must pay for parking - even the grocery store.  Our store parking lot has a policy that if you lose your parking ticket (which you need to leave the lot), they charge you $25.  Because of this policy, I am always very careful with the ticket and keep it safe. 

Kris and I arrived - he on his crutches, me limping and wearing my arm in a sling and headed straight to customer service to arrange for delivery.  They were looking at us like a couple of rejects so Kris told them we were really bad base jumpers who had a bad day.  We had hobbled our way through the deli and produce and were in the bulk foods aisle when I realized I no longer had our parking ticket.  In a panic I backtracked our path through the store without luck.  I rushed to customer service and they sent another person to also search.  By the time Kris met us at customer service I was almost in tears.  They felt so bad for the injured base jumpers that they got the manager to let us out of the lot.

They forgot to deliver our oranges.

Saturday, my eldest child, son-in-law and grandkids came to help broken nanna.  The kids dumped my garbage, took out boxes and set up my roof top table.  Rae loves the hole in my ceiling and they were up there a lot.

Today we are back online.  We have TV and internet.  What on earth did people do before TV?  I read all my books already.  I am already starting to wonder how I even lived before PVR? 

Well, I have rambled on quite a bit now so will catch up more next time.

Ciao