Corrupted Plans

I really try to post something new here everyday. I also try to make my posts interesting or at least mildly amusing.

Sometimes I think succeed in doing both. Other times I don’t. I just want the reader to know that I really do try. It’s just that sometimes, just every so often, outside forces corrupt my carefully designed plans and everything goes to hell.

Take yesterday morning for instance. I rose at 6:30 AM with the intention of getting some writing done before I had to leave for my cardiac rehab appointment at 9:30 AM. By the time I finally settled down in my office after feeding the dogs and bringing in the morning papers, it was around 7:30 AM. Not bad so far.

Denise comes in and gives me a quick kiss before heading off to her job. The first order of business was to take care of some business that I told myself to do on Friday. I made a few changes to a lease proposal and then emailed it the client.

Now I could start some real writing. It was about eight o’clock. I had a good solid hour before I would have to leave.

Then the phone rang. It was Igor.

Igor is our home improvement contractor. We’ve had Igor and his fellow Russians in our home quite a bit this year. We like Igor.

“Is Miss Denise home?”

“No, I’m sorry Igor, she just left for work.”

“I call her on cell phone then.”

“Good plan.”

I should point out here that Denise is the true General Contractor on all of these home improvement projects. I pretty much step aside and enjoy the show. For now I felt confident that I now had a clear path to an hour of uninterrupted writing. Denise would deal with Igor. I was wrong. The phone rang again. It was Denise this time.

“Honey, do you remember that I was a planning a surprise for you for Christmas?”

“Sure.”

“Well the surprise is that I am having your office redone.”

“That’s great.”

“Well, unfortunately, Igor is on his way over there right now.”

“Oh. Is he coming to measure some things?”

“No. He’s coming to get started. You have to move everything out of there.”

“Now?”

“He’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

“Today?”

“I’m sorry honey; I didn’t mean it to happen this way. I told him…”

At this point I really stopped listening. I looked around me at the chaos of my office. There was barely any wood showing on my desk. There were things stacked on the floor. There was extension cord spaghetti next to my feet. The picture in yesterdays post shows how my desk normally looks.

“Thanks honey. It’s a great gift. I’d better get off the phone now. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry.”

No sooner did I hang up than the doorbell rang. Igor had arrived.

Surprisingly, when I checked in at cardiac rehab, my blood pressure was only 136 over 84.