This all took a heavy toll on us, specifically our arms, legs and backs. But hey, the old carpeting was stained and starting to buckle, and the new one would be much nicer.
This morning at eight the carpet people arrived to start what was sold as a job that would end tomorrow morning. We planned to sleep in our small guest room, along with clothes and pillows and lamps, etc., just for tonight. But no. What happened instead was the carpet guy, who looked old enough to be somebody's great-grandpa, causing me to question his suitability for carpet-laying, worked for 90 minutes laying down the soft pad that goes under the carpet before going outside, getting in his truck and driving off without a word, never to return.
We received no phone calls explaining his mysterious departure, but through our constant calls to the Paul White Company in Portland, Maine, we finally learned that the installer left because he had or was having or was about to have a heart attack and is now in the hospital.
Apparently Paul White had no backup plan so there's no telling when we'll ever get back to our regular life. Until then we'll be in the guest room on a smaller, full-sized bed with Mitch's feet hanging off the end. It's not fun and we are pissed about it. Looking on the bright side, I went for a chest x-ray two days ago and learned that I do not have lung cancer, or even pneumonia -- just a lingering cough from the bad cold I had about six weeks ago.
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