Having two workers in the house is somewhat off-putting. I desperately wanted to take a power nap yesterday around 3 (20 minutes, am good as new), but didn’t want anyone to catch me drooling in my chair. The guys were at the back of the house, but would come out now and then to ask for scissors, for example.
Me: Is that cheesecloth?
Me: Why do you need cheesecloth to put tile up in the shower?
Worker: To polish the tiles when we’re done.
I thought if I got up and moved around, it would make me alert. There was a box of miscellaneous toys a son brought back from his college apartment. Inside were these hamster-like furry, clothed creatures an uncle gave both the boys, forgetting they were grown.
As I picked one up to take out to the garage, it sprang to life. Loudly. Really loudly. In an Alvin-chipmunk voice, it belted out some irritating song, and worse, it was trying to move around in my hand. I clawed at it, trying in vain to turn it off. I could not imagine what the workers were thinking.
(well, I sorta could)
Worker 1: You hear that?
Worker 2: Sounds like one of them singing squirrels.
W1: Nah. Man, does she listen to strange stuff.
W2: Is she like, wacko? She acted really weird when I told her to get in the truck so we could go to Home Depot.
W1: Heheh. How’d that go?
W2: She’s too short to get in the truck right. I reached my hand out, and man, she jumped back. I pointed out the grab bar, she finally got in. Am I scary looking or what?
W1: Haw. Them tattoos.
I fled with the thing to the garage where I flung it in a Rubbermaid box and closed it up.