So close, and yet so far.

I guess I shouldn't have believed the plumber when he said, "Karen will call you tomorrow to arrange everything about my coming Thursday." He had said he'd talk with her when he went into Lowe's today and get the work order drawn up.

It is after noon, and she has not called. She goes home at 3, I know that much.

I don't know what to do. Last time I called her she was kind of churlish with me, and I fear pissing off someone who holds the promise of my future happiness* in her hands.

And yet - if I need to sign something or pay something or whatever, I need to take care of it.

And I don't want to hear that it's going to be Friday (or later) before the heater goes in. I will NOT go over the weekend without hot water - without the ability to wash clothes (incidentally, my washer is DISCONNECTED right now so I can't even do them on cold), bathe in something approaching comfort, or easily wash dishes.

(*Yes, dammit. My prospects of future happiness have shrunk to being able to take a warm shower and wash dishes some other way than by hand with water heated on the stove. I just want hot water - is that too much to ask?)

Of course if it comes to that, maybe I just need to find a nice spa-type hotel somewhere and go there and stay there for the weekend, and have them send the bill to Lowe's. They'd never pay it, of course, but at least they'd know I'm pissed at them.

I don't know whether to just call, or to wait until my lab is done (which could be precariously close to the time Karen leaves for the day) and go out there and plant my formidable, more-than-150-pound self in front of the customer service desk and demand satisfaction. I might even do a few dramatic "Camille" coughs to let them know I'm NOT FEELING WELL (still) and I DO NOT APPRECIATE BEING DINKED AROUND.

If they offer me a gift card as some kind of "apology," I don't think I'm taking it. I think I'll tell them I don't plan on shopping with them again. (That said: that's a dangerous statement to make in a town as small as mine, considering that if my dishwasher goes out, I might be driving 40 miles to find another place that sells them).

(ETA: I just called her. I smiled into the phone [supposedly people can hear that in your voice] and essentially rolled over and showed my pale, vulnerable belly to her. I was nice. I was super, super polite. I framed it in the sense of "If I need to come and sign something, it's quicker for me to get there from my office than from my house..."

Do you know how much it bothers me to be submissive just because I fear the person will screw me over in some way?

She said she'd call the plumber and find out....he had left her a message....and she'd call back. I don't have high hopes at this point)


WHY does this all have to be such a fecking nightmare? Who do I have to pay off, vote for, sleep with, or otherwise bribe in order to get work done on my house? I live in fear of the day my dishwasher goes out...or the furnace...or something else I can't fix myself.

Seriously: it's like they all think it's still the 1950s and we're all June Cleavers, sitting at home, happily vacuuming the living room daily and baking fresh cookies while we wait on the handyman.