Grr. House rage!

Absolutely pissed off, here.

Mum and David came over today, nominally to help put up the bridging units that go over our bed between the wardrobes.

Before that, though, I was pretty much forced to shift 2 metal drawer cabinets from the hall to the shed.
Now, true, they were grey and not-very-nice-looking... But I intended all along to take them out in summer and spray them matt black, and repaint the chrome handles.
They not only had paperwork in them, but some little model parts and happened to be exactly the right height for the mounts I have my Alien Resurrection vest and my Emperor's Guard helmet on to sit atop.

But no... She played the fucking "When you OWN this house, you can do what you like. Right now, you do as we say."

Which...
And let me make absolutely clear how heartfelt and strong this emotion is through use of fonts...

REALLY FUCKING PISSES ME OFF!

Problem with the loft? "We're just intermediaries between you and the mortgage, we're not your landlords. You can pay for it if you want it fixed."
Something we want to do that Mum doesn't? "We're your landlords and what we say goes."


Then she moved on to the slat-board I'd bought for the hall - My intention being to find a nice small piece of beech slatboard, to mount my sabers, and some of my smaller prop replicas onto.

"That's not going in the hall. Get rid of it. Put your lightsabers in your shed, or in the loft."

Once again, NO respect for other people's wishes or taste.

If it was a china statue of a brown fucking eskimo, or some blue and grey spanish bint with an umbrella she'd have no problem with it.



Then we get to the actual bridging unit.

I have told her time, time, and time again that the curtain rail in the bedroom means that the wardeobes would have to go hard left against the wall adjoining Morgan's room if we're gonna fit the bridge in.
What did she do?

She got David to drill the holes for the mounting points using the CURRENT position of the left wardrobe as a baseline... A good inch out from the wall, thereby totally buggering up the entire plan.
I now have to move my curtain rail UP by about a foot, and cut it short so it doesn;t extend over the top of the wardrobe.

My glass display cases, from next to the front door, have been moved to beside my desk and overall I'm fucked off at being dictated to in my own home.



I DO appreciate what they've done for us. We ARE lucky to HAVE this place.


But it's Kat and me that live here, NOT them.
It should be US that make the decisions about what goes where - Save for when we want to do something that will irrevocably alter the fabric of the house.

A few small screw holes in a plaster wall that I filled and painted ANYWAY do not come under that heading.


Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.


Kat's raging too.
I don't think she cares about my sabers, but Morgan was up all last night and Kat's been unable to grab a bloody nap today because what SHOULD have been a short easy job ended up taking from just after lunchtime til after 6:30 in the evening.

And, of course, when Morgan came back from nursery, she was in a foul mood and went into one of her screeching tantrums.

She's eating her tea now, and Kat's on the phone to her Mum.


Fuckittyfuckittyfuckittyfuck.