Powerless

We are having some work done on the house this weekend. And by “some work” I mean that we paid a couple of guys to completely demolish our third floor. And by “this weekend” I mean right now.

As happy as I am to not be inhaling plaster dust right now, I do wish that a couple of things had gone slightly differently.

First of all, I would have loved to have slept in today, instead of getting up early to let them in. I stayed up late last night with that pre-day-off feeling of euphoria. Conveniently forgetting that I would have to be up and out of bed at the exact same time that I usually do when I’m working.

Of course, I kept my PJ bottoms on, so I suppose that this one is a wash.

The more pressing matter is that of the power to the third floor. Those of you who remember anything that I have ever said about this house will know that the previous owner of this place was not exactly detail oriented. In fact, the only way that a person could be any less detail oriented would be if they had a short term memory problem so bad, it necessitated a consultation by Oliver Sacks. Out of the twenty-five or so switches in our circuit breaker, I’d say that maybe five of them are labeled.

And, of course, none of them says “all power to the third floor” on them. That would be too easy.

I attempted to call Kristian and ask him, “You wouldn’t happen to have the exact layout and power flow of our circuit breaker memorized, would you?” But he didn’t answer my phone-call. Damn him and his inability to drop everything and answer my stupid questions while he should be working. Damn his eyes!

The guys working upstairs don’t exactly speak much English. And by “don’t exactly speak much English” I mean that I’m pretty sure that they can only say, “Kristian is not here?” and “Can you shut off power on the third floor?”

I attempted to explain that he should work with me to figure out which switches shut off the power. Also, that we needed to be careful not to let the cats out of the basement. But I pretty much only succeed in making him absolutely terrified to go anywhere near our basement. And then he retreated back to the third floor. I’m not sure what he thinks is down there, but I know he’s scared of it now.

So, I did what any girl would have done in my situation. 

I started flipping switches at random until I was pretty sure that I had a good chance of turning everything off. I flipped the switch back on when the UPS in our basement started beeping. And then again when the lights went out. But, aside from that, everything without a label got shut off. When I yelled upstairs to ask if that worked, the guy said “good! good!” So, I assume that he won’t be getting electrocuted today.

And that is why I am not currently sewing the 17 baby quilts that I should currently be working on. It seems that I managed to cut off the power to my temporary sewing room. I’d start flipping switches back on until I figured out which one makes my sewing machine and iron run. But then we’re back to that whole electrocution thing.

Go me.

I think this is the universe’s way of telling me to go for a run.