Its official, contractor dude is not coming out until Sunday (if then). I just had to call Mike and make him talk me down from a hysterical hissy fit. I want to scream, I want to puke, I want to scream puke all over this guy until he is covered in as much nasty as my beloved old homestead.
We were hoping to work on bringing my studio over this weekend but with plaster dust, construction debris and tools everywhere it would be an emergency room visit waiting to happen.
I'm going to the shed and get the shovel for a big hole under the porch. No one would smell him over the dog poo. Then again, you can smell him over the dog poo now so I better not.