Tile Trauma and other tales

2009-07-22, 10:07 p.m.
Just a little bit of stuff whilst Im snatching a few minutes of "not doing anything more important" (which are sadly too few and far between these days!)

We still have no bathroom. The shower tray has turned up at last but the tiler has gone into a massive strop and went home today without doing any work and isn�t coming back til next Monday.

He is complaining that the tiles I have chosen are "too small" and will take too long to hang. They also require special adhesive and special grout which is more expensive than the usual stuff and takes longer to put on. Here's what I told L to tell him�

The tiles are that size because that is THE SIZE I WANT. If I wanted tiles that were a quarter inch across then I would have them because, guess what, I AM PAYING YOU, BY THE DAY, IN CASH. That they are 6" across, instead of the 12" that you would clearly prefer because you would be off the job in half the time, should not concern you because you are being paid BY THE DAY. I am also paying for your materials so if the adhesive and grout are made of powdered unicorn horn and specks of real gold gathered from a fairies wings by moonlight it is still no concern of yours because I AM PAYING.

I am also aware that you do not have another job on at the moment. In case it hasn�t been mentioned in the newspapers you read or the TV you watch, THERE IS A RECESSION ON. If you don�t want to take on this CASH JOB in a pleasant house with unlimited chocolate biscuits then you are welcome to stay at home DOING NOTHING and earning NO MONEY and I will employ someone with a better attitude to earning a living. If you should have the misfortune to be in my house when I get home from work and I hear you telling my husband, as you did earlier, "you should tell her she's not having it", I will punch your head CLEAN OFF YOUR SHOULDERS. Now get to work.

I think he may have paraphrased somewhat in passing that on. Im feeling a bit tetchy about the prospect of not having a bathroom for about another week. Can you tell?

Got a day off on Friday as we're driving up to Newcastle, which is about 400 miles away, or about 5 and a half bum-numbing hours. Oh and we're picking up Brummie Drummer Boy "on the way". The "'s are there because I consider that 'on the way' means that you will be passing within a mile or so of them and are happy to break for ten minutes while they throw their suitcase in the back of the car and jump in. "On the way", to me, doesn�t generally mean "a bloody great detour almost to Stanstead airport which is actually miles and miles out of our way". *sulk*. Im also kind of depressed that we are going all that way just for ONE NIGHT, for Jimi's 40th birthday, and that we are staying in a crummy hotel, and that we aren�t going to the birthday dinner (before the nightclub) because we're too poor � or at least, we will be after spending out for enough petrol to do 800 miles at �1.01/litre.

Im wearing a new dress for the occasion so I shall take photos for your delectation.

Had "coached facilitation" today in my training course, which means they sent someone important from the Dept of Health to see how badly I was cocking up their carefully tailored modules.

It appears I actually might have kind of got the hang of it as she seemed jolly surprised that it was only my 2nd session and gave me pretty much top marks for everything. Yay me! I even managed to deal with one poor delegate (looking after her husband who is used to ruling the roost but now has dementia and is often absolutely vile to her) having a bit of a cry in the middle of the session. I did fess up to almost crying myself and my coach said it was OK cos she nearly cried, too!

Its still a really difficult and challenging job�and Im not sure I can stick it, but Im still prepared to do my best until I don�t feel able to do that any more. Then I will quit. Cos what you don�t need when you're already in a horrible stressful situation, is a trainer who cant really be arsed to train you and doesn�t care whether you get anything out of it or not.

Oh, and yesterday my boss made me go to a Community Network Lunch. When I got there she gave me all of about 20 seconds notice (no. Im not joking) that I was giving a speech on my project and how it works. I stood up, blathered, sat down. The lady next to me said "Ooh, you obviously know your stuff � will you come and talk to my group at our next seminar?" I said , "Yes, I'd love to. And do you know what? I'll even actually PREPARE what Im going to say". She laughed quite a lot. She knows my boss.

L and his sister are all upset by a new nurse at their dad's nursing home deciding to barge into the room while dad was sleeping (possibly�.or maybe just resting with his eyes closed. He's quite frail and its hard to always tell) and saying "ooh, Im glad I caught you. Now. What plans have you made to discuss dad's funeral arrangements with him. Oh, and if there's an emergency, do you want us to try to resuscitate him, or just let him go?" Ladies and gentlemen, in case you were in any doubt, that is NOT how End of Life Care discussions should go. She had no way of knowing if dad could hear her (or if he was asleep or not) and those sort of things are not the sorts of things on which you can make a snap decision. L and Suse cried a bit. Some "Care Workers" aren�t worthy of the title.

Later
S
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