Wednesday, September 10, 2014

What a morning...

Fair warning.  I'm in a foul mood.  If you read this blog on a regular basis, you've probably already come away with the idea that I have a tendency toward bitchiness.  Today I am in serious bitch mode.  It's a wonder I have any friends, given my penchant for crankiness.

This morning, I started putting together a cart I bought for the kitchen.  Well, it's for the kitchen, but I'm putting it in a back room with the refrigerator I just bought.  The fridge that came with this house is really small... it's only slightly bigger than what one might find in a college dorm.  We're pretty lucky to get even that; a lot of times when you rent a house in Germany, you have to furnish the kitchen yourself, right down to the light fixtures.  Bill and I quickly determined that we needed more fridge space, so I bought a bigger one.  I also bought a washing machine and a dryer.

Now... the washing machine wasn't supposed to get here until Friday.  I was expecting the dryer and fridge today and since I ordered them directly from Amazon, they came with delivery service.  That meant the delivery guys would bring it in and set it up for me, plus take away the packing materials.  Unfortunately, I unwisely purchased the washer from a third party seller.  The guy showed up unexpectedly this morning as I was putting together my cart, which was not so easy to assemble.  I was kind of preoccupied with that task.  The delivery guy rang the bell.  The dogs went crazy.  He was going to leave the washer under the carport, but I persuaded him to at least bring it into our foyer.

Knowing that the Amazon guys were coming later, I knew I had to get the washing machine to the basement because otherwise the delivery guys wouldn't be able to get the fridge and dryer into the house.  So as the guy who dropped off the washer departed, he didn't close the front door all the way.  I was momentarily distracted by the washer and didn't immediately notice my two little shithead dogs run outside.  I looked outside and the next door neighbors confirmed my worst fears, that the dogs had gotten loose.  I was barefoot and Bill had moved my shoes, so I had to look for them before I could chase the dogs.

Swearing profusely, I quickly found my shoes and the keys to the house, grabbed the leashes, and ran outside in pursuit of my dogs.  Arran was easy to catch.  He just went next door.  Zane, on the other hand, took me on a whirlwind tour of the neighborhood.  I was calling him, chasing him, and noticing that he was very delighted with himself as he almost got hit by a car.

I know it's best not to be upset or frustrated under those circumstances, but I couldn't help it.  Zane has selective hearing and doesn't come when I call him because he's an undisciplined, untrained hunting dog who is obsessed with smelling things and loves to run.  One good thing is that he rarely gets out of eyeshot, so he doesn't get lost.  He just scares the hell out of me by running amok through heavily trafficked places.  So I chased him through the neighborhood until we finally got to a grassy area with lots of chestnut trees right next to a busy main drag with lots of car traffic.

A young woman with two little boys was sitting by a fountain, completely unconcerned and unhelpful as I chased Zane through the area.  There were several instances in which all she would have had to do was grab his collar and then I could have caught him and been on my way.  But she seemed to be doing her best to ignore us.  I couldn't help but hope that, some day, those two boys in her care take off in two different directions and no one helps her.  I know my problem wasn't her problem; but seriously, she could have made things a lot easier for me by just grabbing the dog's collar.  She didn't seem to be afraid of him.  But maybe she enjoyed watching me chase Zane.  

I was really scared Zane would cause an accident or get hit by a car.  Of course, I was also very annoyed by the situation.

Zane finally ran into someone's fenced backyard.  I closed the gate and cornered him, got him on a leash, and stormed home with him and Arran in tow.  On the way back, some old guy started trying to talk to me.  He no doubt saw me chasing the dog and seemed to be expressing his (unwelcome) opinion about it.  I managed to tell him in German that I don't speak the language, then walked off.

Zane knows I'm pissed at him and is making himself scarce.  The good thing is that he and Arran are now tired.  So am I.

I finished the cart, got the washing machine to the basement by myself, and put together a couple of lamps.

This took all morning to assemble...

To make today's epic suck factor complete, we finally got our security deposit back from our shitty Texas property managers.  They deducted $400 for shit that was there when we moved in.  $350 was for a window that we did not break.  $25 was for Christmas lights that were up when we moved in.  And $25 was for nail holes caused by a towel rack being moved... that we did not move.  So they sent $1300.  Bill has a copy of the move in report we filled out before they were our property managers, along with photos of the condition of the place.  He's going to ask them to give us the rest of our deposit.

Fuck them.  Screwing with me will cost them a lot more than $400 in the form of lost prospective tenants who will be warned away from doing business with them.  The people at D'Ann Harper Coldwell Banker of San Antonio are the worst property managers I have ever had to deal with.  What really sucks is that I tried so hard not to rent from them and ended up having to anyway when our lease got taken over by their worthless, greedy company.

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