The Truth Is Often Stranger Than Fiction

So the creeper plumber (that's the name I have given to him) is supposed to be in my room today putting in the new thermostat which happens to be behind my lovely 7ft tall Ikea bookcase. This meant that last night I had to remove all of my 140 some odd books. They are all piled up on my desk, some being in a wash basket. The disorganization of them hurts me. I just have the need to put them back in their wonderful alphabetical order. It's like cruel and unusual punishment. And it doesn't help that creeper plumber blocked my car in so I can't even leave yet. Although he did ask if I would need to get out and I said yes (because I have a hair appt at 12) and he got annoyed. REALLY!?!? He has an hour to do whatever he needs to do and he has another guy with him. It also isn't my fault that he takes up our driveway like he owns the place. Oh and did I mention I am home because we had another Swine Flu day.

So let's get back to the fact that he will be in my room, Hi uncomfortable feeling. I'm not a fan of strangers in my room, especially ones I find creepy. For the past 2 weeks I wasn't comfortable with him in the house never mind my room.