This blog chronicles my life as I try to balance healthy lifestyle habits with my husband's penchant for pizza rolls and my daughter's desire to watch iCarly 8 hours a day. It contains a mostly humorous, kind, and somewhat spiritual look at everyday life and the people who live it.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Handy Andy or Stalker Stan?
Meanwhile, I am talking on the phone with Debbie as I help her figure out whether or not she can import data in a comma delimited format (yes, our conversations really are that highbrow and technical). I am sitting at my laptop, chatting away, oblivious to HGP. We finish our techie discussion, I turn off laptop and when the screen goes black it reflects like a mirror. I am looking into this mirror and I give a short high scream as I see HGP reflected in the screen standing right behind me and not saying a word. I quickly get off the phone with Debbie (a move I would not make again because after all she is the only one who knows HGP is with me and she may be my only lifeline if things get weird), and ask HGP if I can help him. He says he is finished with the door and would I like to see it? I don’t really want to see the door, I mean if you’ve seen one door you’ve seen them all and it isn’t even my house, but I am a little on edge right now, so I go look at the door.
Yep, it’s a door.
I admire the door for a moment or so and then try to head him toward front door. He stares at me intently for a moment and then says “I made a mess.” I am again taken aback. He made a mess? In his pants? What is he talking about? He gestures toward some saw dust on the floor. Relief floods me. “It’s okay” I say, nodding encouragingly and once again starting for the front door, “I have to sweep the floors today anyway.” He nods and finally starts walking toward the front door. I am giddy with relief when suddenly he stops, turns around, looks at me intently and says “your floors look fine.”
Okay, I am creeped out now. Thankfully he leaves. I lock door, watch ‘til I see his truck is out of the driveway and call Debbie letting her know that I am still alive and from now on, if I scream, don’t let me get off the phone because someone may need to be my audio witness of the crime scene.
Now, to be fair, HGP should be equally afraid of me because frankly I have been sticking to my “no sugar” plan and I am a woman on the edge. Add that to the fact that I have a dirt floor cellar…
…I can hardly wait ‘til next week when the furnace guy comes…