Okay, for someone who thought she'd removed one of the stressful things in her life (I've taken a doctor-recommended leave from my day job--my last day was Sunday), today is shaping up to be one of those days where my head goes all explodey and showers bits of skull and brain matter all over the place.
I made an appointment for a pro carpet cleaner to come do these hideous carpets this morning. Last night, Firstborn and I lugged all the dressers, desks and assorted stuff out of the upstairs bedrooms, and this morning I finished up by removing my daughter's bed. All this stuff (more furniture than should reasonably even be in two bedrooms, really) is now piled in the middle of my living room, (and kitchen and dining room), which is also full of assorted toys (legos and bionicles everywhere, OMG). It's quarter past ten and I'm wondering where the guy is, so I phone. He's fucking sick in bed. Can't even get up. But couldn't call last night to let me know he was really sick and had to cancel, apparently. Aughhhhh!!!!!
There is no other pro carpet cleaning outfit in town, and the people in the next town aren't answering their phone. "We're probably out cleaning someone's carpet" the message says.
To add insult to injury, my parents arrive tonight. Yes, tonight. And Firstborn has been sleeping on the sofabed downstairs (where my parents sleep when they visit), and Blammo has been sleeping on the couch in the living room. The couch is now buried under a mound of bedroom stuff, and the boys' beds are stacked in the family room, which leaves no floorspace for "camping out" there and so basically, there's only two usable beds in the house--the sofabed and my bed. And two extra people looking to sleep here tonight.
I suppose I could leave a message at the other place, but I have a feeling I'll be waiting all day to hear back, only to be told no, they can't come out. So now I'm stuck renting a Rug Doctor and hoping beyond hope that it works 100x better than the home-model Bissell my friend loaned me.
I swear, I could kill something right now. Like, kill, kill, kill.
On top of that, my ex's lawyer has missed yet another deadline (Monday), and MY lawyer, courteous, non-litigious guy that he is, is going to phone his office to double-check that no response is forthcoming before he sets a date for a case conference. Dude, am I going to be married to this guy forever, or what?
I think I need a drink. It's gotta be past noon somewhere in the world, right? I mean, screw the whole 5 o'clock saying--as long as it's afternoon, it's fine, right? Right?
ETA: Okay, so I rented a Rug Doctor, and yeah, they're a LOT better than the home-model I was using. Way more suction, and the brushes? Holy cow, you can hardly hold onto the thing, those babies are shaking so hard. I'm 1/3 of the way done the big, huge room, and it looks good so far, and the carpet doesn't go "squoosh" when I walk on it, either. So I'm hoping that the blammo suction that's pulled all that moisture out, well, maybe it's pulling more crap out too, and I won't end up with ugly brown patches as it dries. I may go over it twice, just to be sure. Oh, and it might even be dry enough to put some of the stuff back by tomorrow.
AND, I had some bacon-wrapped chestnuts (my toaster still works since the power surge, it just doesn't get quite as hot as it did), and I'm having a glass of wine, too. Just a little one.
AND my mom phoned to say they'll be here early--like dinner time--and did I want her to get me a bucket of KFC on the way up? Holy hell, yeah! Nice, salty, greasy, KFC smothered in a gallon of KFC gravy? And that way, dinner's taken care of too! So I'm feeling better. Yay!
ETA II: So I'm 2/3 done the big room, and the brushes stop brushing. Ack! I felt the top of the machine, and it's really hot, so maybe it just needs a rest? I hope? If not, I'll have to return it and get another one. Bluh.