My Nemesis

My nemesis = all Highland Home contractors!  They are out to get me.  Their goal is to cause me to have a nervous breakdown and today, well, they at least caused me to cry, and pace back and forth rather quickly.  Oh, and they caused me to send some angry text messages to my husband, although not directed toward him.

Our current issue is with our cabinets (good grief will this EVER end).  A very long story short, there was a quality issue with the glue and some of our doors split, yes split.  You would think we bought a friggin mobile home or something with the issues we are having.  I say that referencing the cheap factor (my apologies for anyone that might be offended by the reference).  Anyway, they have stained them and they don't match so of course we are having them redone.  Well, I was assured that there shouldn't be a mess and if there was it would be cleaned.  So the cabinet guy came out to replace several doors today and sand ONE side, a small side, of the island.  I watched him hook up a shop vac type contraption, assuming that this was to help with the dust and I left the room.  Oh my gosh! I was blinded by the cloud of dust that FILLED the downstairs when I returned.  I just stood there.  Everything was covered.  All of my furniture, my cabinets, the fixtures, the walls, the floors.....everything!  I was speechless.  I was incapable of doing anything.  The cabinet guy leaves. 

3 minutes later the drywall crew shows up (yes, we have issues there too).  He doesn't speak English so we can't communicate.  I really wish that I knew how to speak Spanish, for many reasons.  Anyway, he is able to tell me the our superintendent will be here shortly.  I wait.  I pace.  I try to keep myself from calling my husband, because I told him I would take care of it.  He has a stressful job and I can handle this.  Only I couldn't.  I couldn't handle the meltdown that was about to ensue.  It was building, and building quickly.  I continue pacing.  I pick up the phone, but I put it down.  I continue pacing.  I am making lines and X's in the dust throughout the house.  I pick up the phone, but I put in down.  The superintendent isn't here yet and I just can't take it any longer.  This is when the text messages begin.  About this time the superintendent finally shows up.  He takes off his shoes and is about to come in with the crew, but I stop him and explain that I need to talk to him first.  The other guys don't speak English so they followed anyway.  They had no idea what they were about to witness.  I just started crying and waving my arms around pointing to the filth.  Yes, filth.  It is disgusting, in a dusty way, not a cat/dog poop on the floor kind of way.

So, I know that I use the phrase a lot because Jack now says it, but I said it to this guy too, "I can't take it anymore!"  I have a steady stream of tears flowing and I am pacing back and forth.  I am about to really lose it and when I stop talking I realize he is on the phone with someone.  He is calling a cleaning crew.  Yeah, you better buddy! 

Seriously, what is wrong with these people?  How can they think that is is OK?

This one section of the cabinets caused all of this...