I was trapped in my house this morning ...

I'm trying to sell my current house, which means (with my current string of "luck") things are going terribly bad.

I had to repair the foundation, which included them putting a support pier under my drain line, which cracked it (of course). I had to have a plumber come and fix the line, and now there's a 4-foot hole up and under my foundation, which needs to be filled (understandably).

Since plumbers are incredibly expensive as diggers, I told them thank you very much, and hired someone else to bring dirt in (the excavated clay won't pack back in; back to the "luck" thing), fill in the hole, and haul off the old dirt.

This was supposed to start tomorrow.

Imagine my surprise when I opened my garage door today and saw a mound of dirt blocking my exit. The only way out was going to be to plow through part of the mound, up and over my lawn (avoiding the retaining wall), and over the curb into the street.

I called the guy and registered by concern, which he genuinely seemed at a loss to understand. I told him I was worried about damaging the lawn, since I'm trying to sell the house (ironic, I know, since there's a freaking huge hole in my front yard).

So asked him if that did happen, would he be willing to help me re-sod the damaged area.

His response?

"You want me to come get the dirt and we call it quits right now, Bud?"

Uh, that seemed a little unwarranted. Especially since he's supposed to be providing me service.

So I talked him down (he never apologised for any of this), then made the Guiness Book of World Records billion point turn inside my garage to get out, over the dirt, miss the retaining wall, miss the mailbox, over the curb and into the street. And there are only minor indents in the lawn (thank goodness we haven't had any rain lately).

Ah well. If it's not this it's something else, and no use getting myself worked up ...