I'm pissed.
I'm really pissed.
I probably shouldn't be making an entry right now.
I probably should be cooling off first.
takes a deep breath
But I'm going with the moment here. I have momentum. I have a good head of steam going. I am royally P.O.'d.
I just got home about half an hour ago, and had a "What the Fuck!?" moment. You know what those are, of course, dear reader. It's one of those memorable points in time where you walk in, don't recognize the situation for what it is for one brief second, and then it hits you what's happening. It's that existential state of being where you realize exactly what your place is in the world. It's when it hits you. You've been screwed.
Oh, it isn't that I didn't get any notice this was coming down. "We're going to be redoing your patios," the management said. "We may be redoing your porches too."
"Please remove all furniture and other items from these areas," the management said.
So we did. All the patio furniture got put in the storage area out back. Now we don't really have a porch, but there is that cement area in front of our doors, with the cement steps leading up to it. We didn't have that much out there, but the couple of things I did have I moved into the enclosed garden area.
Do you see where this is going, gentle reader? Because I sure as hell didn't.
BEFORE
AFTER
THEY'VE TORN OUT MY WALLED GARDEN!!!!!!!!!!!!
I drove in. It was dusk. Things looked a little strange. My first clue was that I couldn't figure out where my parking space is. My marker was gone. My marker was the corner of our walled garden. Our walled garden was gone!
We, of course, hadn't moved anything out of the walled garden area, because they never said they were doing anything in there. Indeed, we used that area to store things that were going to be in their way out on the "porch" area. This wasn't a problem though. The construction crew found a place to put all our stuff.
My little colorful front garden has been trash-compactered. If something was in their way, they got it out of their way by putting it in my garden. The hose was perhaps the biggest sticking point with me. I didn't want it in the walled garden area to begin with. The Socialist stored it there between car washings because it was inconvenient to put it away. He didn't want to be dragging it through the apartment while it was wet, and by the time it dried he was ready to wash the car again. He wouldn't let me buy a hose reel for it either. That too would have been inconvenient. I went with the flow. I didn't want to inconvenience him. I nearly left it in our parking space, I was so pissed, but that would have inconvenienced him too. I compromised, and left it on the parking lot in front of his space. I picked everything else up and found a place to put it away, but I'll be damned if I put the hose away.
Of course, I can understand why the construction crew dumped everything in the garden. I'm sure they didn't want to clutter up the nice, clean cement porch area. OK, granted, they did move the tables and roses there. That took up most of the room anyhow. I'm sure they couldn't have fit a single thing more there.
The missing section of fence was dumped next door on the grass. My thermometer and two brass lanterns were still attached. I'm glad nobody hurt themselves on those brackets sticking out that held the lanterns. I'd have felt terrible about that.
But I shouldn't be too rough on the guys. After all, they did try to save the plants I had planted in the enclosed garden area. Notice the nice root ball they left on the coleus:
Send some nice, warm, fuzzy thoughts towards the Socialist this evening. He's teaching an evening class, and has no idea what he's going to be walking into upon his return home.
Damn, I'm pissed.