I don't know if it's something in the air or something in me, but I've attracted a fair amount of battles to my life lately. I just came back from a meeting with an attorney friend who led me through how to file a small claims court action against a publisher who owes me over $1000 in payment and who refuses to respond to my phone calls or e-mails. This situation makes me tired. I wrote the articles, they were published, he owes me the money. Why must we go the court route for him to do what's right? But it is what it is, so off to small claims court I go...
Then there is the bathroom. I'll give a full update later, but at this point almost all of the work is done by the contractor who has been taking forever. They sent me the final bill and I called them and let them know I wanted a discount for the amount of time it's taken. "We don't typically do that," she said.
"I understand," I replied. "But I assume you also don't typically take 6-7 months to complete a bathroom renovation.
"Well, maybe if you had indicated at some point in the process you were unhappy with the time frame..."
Are you KIDDING ME???? I even told her I had felt bad at times for the mean messages I left on her machine, letting her know I wanted the project done NOW. She was very nice during our conversation, as was I, so I don't know that it's a "battle" just yet. I hope they do the right thing and offer us a discount. We'll have to wait and see as they're "getting back to us."
I'm also fighting with my writer's group where I'm on the board. We have a high-profile NY literary agent coming to speak at our Fall conference and several members of the board don't see the need to pay for a one night hotel stay for this woman, saying instead she can just bunk with one of our members. The group has plenty of money and I sent an e-mail that screamed TACKY and opened up a can of worms. We're meeting next week to discuss the issue and, frankly, I'm not in the mood to be nice about it.
The last one isn't my battle but raises my blood-pressure anyway. My mom lives next to the very definition of "white trash." There just is no other phrase for them. These people curse at her, bang on her walls, and make her a virtual prisoner in her own home as she's scared to go outside. It's gotten to the point where she's going to have to put her condo up for sale, just to get away from them.
I'm not enjoying any of these and feel like a grouch. I'm about ready to throw my hands up to all of it and say "The hell with it. Don't pay me my money, screw me on the bathroom, do whatever you want with the agent because I'm leaving the board anyway, and these people at my mom's are just so dug-in-deep white trash there's just is no hope of a peaceful solution. I give in. I quit."
Sigh. But I have that "it's not fair" button stuck deep inside me. I did the work, I should be paid. A bathroom renovation shouldn't take 7 months--we deserve a break on price. Taking $180 for a hotel out of a $10,000budget should be a no-brainer.
We'll see how it all ends. Meanwhile, please try not to pick a fight with me. I can only juggle so many battles at once...