Am I the only person who hates workmen coming into their home?
The flood was in March 2013.
I was told last week they have finished, but no, they have come back today the 5th of November 2013.
For months I haven't had the use of kitchen cupboards. Pans, tins and an excess of Tupperware have been sitting on every work surface. The floor has been up, but I've sort of coped with that.
Now don't get me wrong. The workmen have been the friendly chatty type, and I don't feel threatened.
But I hate it.
I hate waiting in.
I hate the chirpy comments about 'it's looking like you're behind on your washing, love...'
When you have deliberately not washed because you don't want the clothes airers to be in the men's way.
I hate the conversation every writer has to come across occasionally IN MY OWN HOME!
'It must be lovely working from home.'
'So what is it you actually do?'
'I've got a great idea for a novel, but I haven't got the time to write it.'
I hate the way they turn up at 8:30 and disappear at 9 because they need a saw.
The fact the front door always left open.
The way it causes the dog to freak out.
How my productivity all an all time low, while my workload is at an all time high.
And then - this morning the water being turned off without me knowing in the middle of brushing my teeth.
But what I hate most of all the way it plunges me into a depression.