To understand this post you really have to read the one from earlier today first. Go ahead and scroll down or just use this handy link: Flat Earth Confession
So this morning I posted the Flat Earth blog post, picked up the phone, and this ensued:
ELECTRICIAN: May I help you?
ME: Yes, I would like to make an appointment to get two outlets added to my home office. Does your company do small jobs like that?
ELEC: Yes, ma'am. Tell me a little more about it.
ME: OK. Well I want to add cabinets and countertops to my office, so I want to add an outlet above counter height and then another one for my under-cab lighting. I've got a spot where you can come straight up from an existing outlet without having to drill through any studs.
ELEC: No problem. I have a truck in your area and he can be there in an hour.
ME: Gulp. An hour from now?! Meaning 60 minutes? Not, say, Monday morning, which gives me all weekend to uncover the wall and clear a path to it?
ELEC: Ho ho. You're so funny. No, seriously, we'll be there in an hour.
ME: OK. Take your time. See you then . . .
The phone was barely hung up before I was dialing again:
ME: What are you doing? Are you ready to leave the house? How soon can you get here? HELP ME!!
GRETCHEN: Slow down, Tiger. What's up?
ME: The electrician! I called the electrician to make an appointment for "next week" like you suggested, and (sweat, gulp, panic, hyperventilate) he's coming in AN HOUR!!! I haven't even showered and you can't see the wall or navigate anywhere near it without a bulldozer.
GRETCHEN: OK. I'm on it. You go jump in the shower and leave the kitchen door unlocked. I'll be there in ten minutes to start clearing the room.
It took the electrician 90 minutes to get here, which helped. Gretchen and I just picked up entire tables full of crap and deposited them in the hall, making the rest of the house look like an episode of "Hoarders, Scrapbooking Edition", but we cleared a path before he arrived, and shortly thereafter . . .
Now I know what a lot of you are thinking. You're thinking "Dude! Why didn't you just do that yourself?" Because, my dear friends, we are not DIY'ers. The biggest electrical job I've ever taken on is installing a ceiling fan. I don't "do" electrical jobs because, frankly, the whole possiblity of electrocuting myself or burning my house down is not, shall we say, a pleasant thought!
John likes to say "We're hirers" and then he goes on to explain that the Burniston family crest is one hand handing a dollar to another.
So judge me if you will, but the point of all of this is . . . I did it! I called the electrician and the outlets are in! Gretchen and I celebrated by going out to lunch and planning our trip to IKEA to order the cabinetry.
Yep - I'm doing it.
Soon this wall will look something like this:
Heading in the direction of round . . .