I woke up at 5:00 thinking about my backsplash: What colors would I use? How fast could I build it? How many pieces would I make? Where could I get the right plates? Did I want to use plates? So after tossing and turning until 5:30, I got up and had some coffee to wait for the delivery of 35+ boxes, most of them large boxes.
The driver arrived at 7:15. He complained for the first 15 minutes: the deck was slippery, there were too many steps, the boxes were too big, he didn't have any help, nobody told him, nobody measured. Ugh. What is it with the complainers? I'm the customer. I'm the one who gets to complain, damn it!
And complain I will. I was terrified that some of the cabinets would have to come out of the boxes and get slid across the floor and rip it. (That didn't happen.) But the mud and grass clods and dogshit did come in on the delivery guy's shoes and the hand truck wheels. I was feeling a little frantic, and as soon as he left, I washed what little of the floor was showing through. (Part of me still trembles with fear that the floor is permanently stained.
While I was squeezing dry the sponge mop, there was a frantic knock at the back door. It was my neighbor, come to tell me that the delivery truck knocked limbs off his and my other neighbor's trees.
[sigh] That's terrible. I feel awful about it. And I don't want to just callously say that shit happens, but if a UPS driver were delivering a package to my house and side-swiped a car, would that be my fault? I didn't force the cabinet guy to come through the alley (I even said he might have to bring a hand truck up the alley and park on the street). But he knew what he was doing.
When I got to work, I was upset, and I stayed upset all day.
The cabinets will be installed on Thursday. That means in just over two weeks, I'll have most of a kitchen. All hail the Kitchen Bitcher!