I woke up grumpy and unshaven. I'm going to sleep cleaner and happier. Today started off rough, but picked up. Tomorrow will be a long day.
- 1,000 VPPs
- 2 videos
- 1 chapter
- 1 Taekwon-Do class
- 1 music practice
- 1 blog
Day 4 was less than ideal. I let myself get distracted by black cards, poker championships (which I didn't play), and nuclear kittens. I had a lot planned for the day, but made some serious scheduling adjustments. I'd like to say I relaxed a bit and that I'm now prepared for a hard week, but the feeling only lasted until I woke up this morning. It's raining, which contributes atmosphere but not energy.
I can't say things are getting any easier so far. A little quality sleep would be more than welcome. I managed to pick up the pace on the poker at least, largely by nine tabling. I also decided to spend 24 hours at some point writing a short mystery novel.
When you want something done right, they say you should do it yourself. I prefer to find someone who takes pride in their work. A professional. A true professional.
If you’ve been reading my blog, you know that my move has been less than smooth. I won’t re-list the problems with this place, but I will say that I was losing sleep over a number of them, particularly the menagerie of malfunctioning doors. Long story short, they’ve all been fixed.
Short story long, I met a member of the DragTheBar Limit Holdem squad a couple weeks ago at a party. In response to my complaints about this new apartment, he mentioned that he was a carpenter and a locksmith. I offered him the job of fixing the place. While he wouldn’t take my money, he did accept my offer of poker coaching in exchange for repairs. So I’ll be teaching him to take other peoples’ money instead.
After sitting here for three weeks watching the original contractor get nothing done, I needed to find a professional. I did. In nine hours, he fixed everything but the plumbing. My Taekwon-Do student (the master plumber) came back to fix that. Now everything in the apartment works, and I’m ready to begin my psychotic 100-day challenge on Thursday.
People ask poker coaches why they coach. The good ones do it because they love teaching. That’s true for all types of teachers. One of the most gratifying things about teaching is the favors students will do for you. It’s not gratifying just because it helps get things done (which is awesome). The gratification comes from knowing that your students are doing these things from their heart, because they appreciate the time you’ve taken to share your knowledge with them. And that’s really what it’s about on both sides. Taking the time to help someone else.
So thanks to my guys for taking the time to help me out. It’s made a world of difference.
If when it rains, it pours, then when it leaks, it floods. I have neither slept more than an hour nor eaten more than a snack since 11 AM yesterday morning. That's 41 hours of less than perfect existence. At least I received my weekly affirmation that I'm a little bit clutch.
Today's high jinks began at 9 in the morning when my friend and former student came by to repair the plumbing mess left by the guy who's been "fixing" the house. My guy is a master plumber, which means he knows his shit (the other guy, not so much). He replaced the valves on all of the heaters, repaired the leaky toilet downstairs (which had hot water melting the wax sealing it to the floor), and replaced the pipe beneath our clogged sink. He also shut off the gas and electricity which had been carelessly left on in the boiler in the basement. That's the thing that could've blown up.
The only thing he didn't repair was the pipe leading to and from the dishwasher. He asked if it was leaking, we said no (it wasn't), and he said it would probably be fine. Turns out it wasn't fine. I don't blame him for that. He already did us a huge favor by coming to fix everything two days before his knee surgery. He asked if the pipe was leaking, we said no, and that was that.
The guy I blame is the one who's been doing shoddy work throughout the house, and the guy who left the gas and electricity going to the boiler, ambivalent to whether or not we got blown up. (When confronted about this, he gave some bullshit excuse and acted snotty.)
Long story short (too late), we ran the dishwasher twice today. The first time we watched it like hawks and it ran smoothly. The second time, I sat in my office while the pipe broke about and blew water all over the kitchen, into the bedroom, bathroom and living room (and the shower downstairs). Once alerted to the disaster, however, I ran to the sink and grabbed the knob next to the spraying water. I turned it counter clockwise and it sprayed my face more forcefully. I turned it clockwise and the geyser subsided. Fortunately, we'd recently purchased two 12 packs of paper towels. We need to get a new one tomorrow.
Two hours and one blog later, the floor is dry and I'm exhausted. I hope this blog isn't incoherent, because I feel a bit delirious. I always look for the bright side in things, but right now the best I can come up with is humor. My life has become Grade-A slapstick. And hey, I still haven't gotten blown up yet.
I didn’t get blown up. That’s the best thing I can say about the past three weeks.
Two days after moving in to my new apartment, I commented on a building bearing the plaque “Dadi’s House.” A neighbor related to me the sad tale of Dadi’s wife, who had smelled a gas leak, called 911, and gotten blown up, along with her child and two cops. The children in the neighborhood fashioned a plaque made of multi-colored tiles to rechristen the widower’s home.
I spent the first two weeks in my new apartment struggling to grind out chapters for the book I’m writing with Dusty. The struggle came not so much from the traditional writer’s block (although that was an element), but rather from the insane distractions coming from my mess of a new home. Renovations were supposed to be completed one month before we moved in, but here we are, no end in sight. A short list of what’s been wrong with the place:
I called my former Taekwon-Do student, who’s a master plumber, so the water issues are getting straightened out. And I didn’t fall down the half-installed stairs (even when I was told they were fully installed). And I didn’t really need to go out last night, so who cares that the stairs got lacquered while I was upstairs eating dinner. Who cares that I couldn’t come home the other night because the stairs had been painted?
I didn’t get blown up, so I guess I’m running pretty good.