Well really six outlets have been out-three in the room where I sleep and the other three in my old bedroom. Did my parents do anything to fix it? HELL no. When I told my stupid father that the outlets weren't working it was like I was talking to a freakin' wall. We tried the panel, nothing so we had to wait for my mom to get home-because she's the only one (between her and my father) with any sense left. Mom got home at about 6 in the evening on Friday and said we should've called PG&E. Now why is it that we should have when it's not even our house????????????????
I call PG&E (by the way, the post I was beginning to create in my mind about this was going to be called "I hate PG&E...") and the customer service rep. said someone would be coming that evening (Friday) to check it out. 9:30 pm rolls around and my husband calls. He is told that someone is definitely going to be coming by the 'end of the day.' He stays up till literally 1 in the morning waiting for someone to come. He stayed up because (not only are the outlets bad in this house but) the doorbell doesn't work and we wouldn't have heard the knocking. I was pissed because he had to be up at 4 in the morning. I call PG&E (yes, this is our third call to them) at 4:30 in the morning and this time the person clarifies that 'end of the day' means the end of the day for the after hours technician. She could provide me with zero information other than our problem had already been dispatched out to someone.
Saturday morning rolls around, I distinctly hear my brother say to my stupid father (how I got stuck with him, I'm still trying to figure out..), "Why would you DO that?? You knew she had no electricity" So I'm guessing that my A**HOLE of a father heard the PG&E tech. come to the door but didn't answer it (this is not unusual. he would barely open the door to any of his children in case you were wondering!).
When my brother left to go to work, he found a paper stuck to the door from PG&E saying that they were there and we would have to call an electrician. The gal I spoke with at 4:30 in the morning said that they would definitely be checking both inside and outside. I couldn't believe it. Someone from PG&E called to check up on their service rating and my mom gave them a poor rating for everything. This is one of the reasons why I hate PG&E.
Since we've been limited to only working outlet in the room where we sleep, I couldn't knit or read with a lamp on. We had to have the main light on (which is super obnoxious) and the space heater (cos you know we live in a cave and we aren't allowed to turn the heater!) plugged into our one working outlet. I knew that it was the space heater that probably caused the main problem but my husband's body can't take the cold and his body temperature is honestly lower now (since his hospital stay) so the cold affects him more easily than anyone else here. But do my parents care? No. I'm taking mental notes of all this. Everyone knows what payback is but maybe my parents don't. In my old room, I wasn't even sure if there were any working outlets and my desktop is in this particular room so that's why I've been away.
I went through the yellow pages yesterday (yes, we waited that long) to see who we could call up and this morning someone came and took care of the problem (for now). Since it is an old house, the electrician suggested that we have all the outlets replaced. My response to this was that it's not even my house why should I pay to have all the outlets replaced. The only outlets I care about are in these two rooms. That's it. We didn't even tell my parents we called an electrician. I actually considered us doing the work ourselves-went to the library to pick up a Fix-it-Yourself manual and everything! I knew that there was no way my parents would pay to have the problem taken care of-especially since the problem didn't directly affect them. Oh no. Just wait. It's called karma. :)
And on top of that, the man who lives in his own personal purgatory (that would be stupid father), started barking about how the trash wasn't pushed all the way down in the kitchen trash can. So I opened up my own can of whoop ass an said if he wants to complain about the trash can, maybe he should look at all the disgusting hair he left in the shower and how I could show it to him if he wanted cos he's the ONLY one in the house who cuts his own freakin' hair!!!!!!! The monkey had to bear witness to this discussion-which didn't even take place in the same room, mind you! He was in the kitchen complaining while I was in the living room with the monkey. She threw in her own two cents by telling her dumb grandpa that he was stinky and hairy. lol. It was great. And not that it even matters anymore, but she was the last one to put anything in the that kitchen trash can. This man needs a life.
I wrote my sister a 'hostage letter' about the situation here. I already spoke to her on the phone about it all though. She couldn't believe I wrote her an actual letter. We decided if I were an actual hostage, I'd be dead by the time she received the letter. She couldn't believe what went on either.
Oh and for most of the day, he's stayed out of my way. He won't even come out of his room if I'm in the living room or kitchen. I like it. I don't even want to see his face! And if this is how it is going to be from now, I honestly could care less. It's better for me that he stay out of my way than for him to get in my face because there's no telling what I'll do or say at this point.
I apologize for the ranting. It's not typical of me and I know it's unbecoming but I'm human. If I could just scream at the top of my lungs, I would but I can't. We have decided that he is miserable and wants those around him to be just as miserable. There's no saving him. I'm sure as heck not gonna try.
On a positive note-and one actually related to knitting! I finished my mom's shawl!!! Are you shocked?? I know I was when I finally cast off. I ended up running out of yarn but I was already in the middle of binding off so it was okay. It is currently blocking. Hopefully she won't have anything negative to say (a habit she obviously picked up by having spent most of her life with mr. miserable). If she does, that's it. This will be the last item I make for her. We'll see if I even give it to her if all she has to say is something to the effect of, "You should've made it bigger." Believe me, I've heard it before..
Anna Karenina is starting to get a teensy bit more interesting. I need to make more time to read during the day so I can get through more pages!