Watching the Workers

The a.c. boys are here now.  Nice guys.  There was a crew of four, then a supervisor, then the salesman, then someone I didn't know what, and now there are just two installers.  The ducts are clean.  The outside unit is installed.  My financing is done.  Can you believe 0% interest on $10,000? I told them I was going to take that money to Trump's stock market and gain back some of my money.  Do you think that would work?  I'd probably crash the market.  Still, you can't beat 0% with a stick.

They promise me I will have a.c. by the end of the day.  It is a big job.  They have to haul big units down and then up into the attic.  They are cheerful enough about it.  The cracked three of the stairs on my beautiful sliding attic ladder, though.  Vintage 1926.  What can I do?

I stayed at my mother's last night.  Got a taste of that again.

The house is open to the air and bugs.  It is a cooler day fortunately.  I had to take the day off work.  When the workers took lunch, I popped a beer.  I want to sleep now, but that is not possible.  I have to keep answering questions.  They are all versions of, "Do you want this to work?"  I say, "Yes, of course."

Cha-ching.

You've all been through it.  That's what I'm telling you.