Oh we have been having such fun (said through gritted teeth) with our bathroom renovations. You can read about them over at Fat Dormouse, so I won’t reiterate them here (so much for keeping that blog for food related posts and this one for “life” – the two have mixed and crossed over again. Perhaps I really ought to just have one blog. It would make life easier!)
We put all our woes in an email to the workman and sent it off on Sunday, thinking he would read it & maybe phone us to discuss it. It was “pinged back” as undeliverable yesterday afternoon – so I imagine it was too big a document, as I’d included photos etc. Last night Mr FD converted it to a PDF folder & sent it again. But it’s not very likely he’ll have had tiome to read it and “digest” it.
Here’s the rub.
A, the workman, usually comes on a Wednesday (about the only day he does come. No wonder it’s taken 6 bloody weeks!) and I’m usually here when he arrives. Today I really don’t want to face him, because of our compaints – he is a kind of friend, as I see him socially, and I’m very nervous about criticising him and making him cross – even though I know we’re in the right and we’re payng what seems like vast amounts of money for him to do the job!!!
So I was planning on leaving home earlier to go to Roanne, where I work today…even though it would mean hanging round in a café for an hour. How daft is that?
Then last night, I was watching Gareth Malone’s “Best Choir in Britain” (for non UK readers this is a TV programme where a very sweet choir bloke
(who I think is rather cute!)
puts amateur choirs through their paces to win a competition. Lots of emotion, and weeping, hard work, challenges and “journeys” – you know the stuff.) Last night he gave each choir a song to sing that was outside their comfort zone and challenged their weaknesses. “You need to face your fears head-on”, he advised “That way they won’t frighten you any longer” (or words to that effect.)
On my wall there is a plaque that I designed about three years ago when I went on a wonderful weekend workshop back in Oct 2013 (You can read about it here but will need to scroll down to find it) which also challenges me a little:
it’s because we don’t dare that things are difficult.
I need to dare more. I often say “I don’t do challenges”. Well, this may only be a small challenge but I’m going to do it. I’m going to stay here until my usual leaving time. I’m going to speak to A and explain – calmly, politely and reasonably – why we’re not happy, & talk about what might be done to put things right. I am going to dare to do what I don’t want to do!
And because he is, I believe, a reasonable bloke, he won’t wreak havoc in the house in revenge, and he won’t do the things I have imagined in the dark of the night when I can’t sleep, such as let the cats out so they run away, or steal our belongings, or hack into our computers (Yes, I am getting too worked up and irrational over this) In fact, he may have read the email and be worried himself about facing me, thinking “well, she is a person I see socially, and I don’t want to have her upset…”
I’m not very brave.
But today, I am going to dare…(and the weasels can go hang!)