After nearly 30 years, the time has come to scrap our kitchen and build something which is a) fresh and b) better able to encourage me to cook.
We approached this project with our usual Plan A – scrimp, save and pay someone else to do everything and sit back and relax. Foolproof, right?
A brief catalogue of the disasters which immediately befell us:
1. The kitchen company only delivered 3/4ths of the kitchen
2. The builders reached a point where, without the contents of the missing pallet, they couldn’t go on. So I went to the store and paid a second time for runners and hinges
3. While I as at the store, the builders decided to walk out on the job.
4. The builders took, as is customary, 50% on commencement. They’ve done 30% of the work. I want my money back. That’s gonna get ugly.
So here we are with a half assembled kitchen – no water, no power in half the house, a pallet of missing kitchen parts out in the ether and no one to finish the job when said pallet gets in from the ether.
Oh, and I go on Easter vacation on Tuesday, so we have two days to get it done in.
I’m by nature a problem solver. An extremely unsubtle, sledge-hammer wielding problem solver. But I get the job done. I’m a typically masculine problem solver –
- I humanize my problems and treat them as an inveterate enemy.
- I’m all or nothing – either the problem goes or I do.
- I move fast and I break things.
- I break the problem down into constituent parts and attack multiple tranches of them at once.
- I trust only my judgement.
- I clutch at straws
- I set deadlines on everything
- I use every cartridge of moral and emotional ammunition I have
- If anything is wrong, nothing is right
- I make deals
- I incur debts for favours and I make plans to pay those debts.
- I tolerate no one who isn’t working to solve the problem
Huh. I’ve just given a pretty good description of President Trump. This should be a rough and occasionally sweary ride.