I spoke too soon. Today the bed was to be delivered. When the men arrived they said they could not get the bed up the stairs past the inclinator, or stair lift. Apparently mattresses may not be bent - the manufacturing process has changed and if the mattresses are bent, they break. So all my activity was for nothing. The bed has been taken back to the warehouse, and there have been phone calls to and fro. When Dr P woke up from his morning nap and enquired about progress, I had to tell him the bad tidings. Consequently his good humour and tolerance has vanished, and yet again he is grumpy, and declares the purchase of the bed to be both stupid and unnecessary. Yet again I feel defensive and incompetent. And somewhat cross, along the lines of 'why does everything have to happen to me?' and VERY disinclined to tolerate criticism from Dr P. Why does everything have to turn into a problem?
Never say die. I telephoned the firm who installed the inclinator, explained the problem and asked what could be done. They said they would get back to me. I waited and waited, and finally rang them again, and discovered that Yes, they could. The next exciting installment is scheduled for Tuesday - another week to wait. Now the department store is talking about it costing me an extra delivery charge. Perhaps an arm or a leg? Oh yeah?
Temporary anaesthesia and amnesia might not do any harm at all. Who needs to be conscious, and to have to remember all this sort of thing? It needs to be obliterated from the memory. No wonder there was so much wishful thinking about waving magic wands. Of course, men historically have indeed have magic wands. They are called wives. So useful to have someone to blame. As well as to do all the work.
3 comments:
Part of the reason we want to buy a new bed is that when we moved to Belgium, our current box spring had to be sawed almost in half so it could be eased up the narrow Belgian stairs and shoehorned into our room under the rafters! Once to get it in, then again, three years later, to get it out! Time for anew one.....
Very frustrating for you....but don't lose your sense of humour!It's a powerful weapon, both to hang onto your sanity and for dealing with old Groucho! I'll be hoping its smooth sailing from here!
We rapidly discover that not all bedroom stories are seething with sex and passion!
Your bed story is worse than my bed story, eh? Some removalists ought to write novels, perhaps.
I was having a whinge at the Italian class this morning, and discovered that there is a proverb which translates as 'the dog that barks does not bite!'
At the moment Dr P is not even barking.
Beware! I have found that the dog that barks often bites!
I don't mean to add stress to the situation, & I sincerely hope for a solution to the problems. We are desperately in need of a new bed... & couldn't I write a story or two about new beds!! I am told we are NOT getting one.
We'll see about that....
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