I've just finished writing a flurry of emails about the contracting work being done on my brother's house. Everybody is pushy and this morning they confused me utterly. We're now backtracking before we write a check for completion of the work. The logical choice at this point is to stop dead and wait for authorization from the insurance company, so that we can be sure we won't write a check and never get reimbursed. I have a headache already. My husband is trying to help, but he's also confusing me. I am caught in the middle, as I am the heir. And I'm facing a 2 1/2 hour dentist appointment this afternoon for a crown. I am not in the mood for this.
Two phone calls interrupted this blog, and things are somewhat clarified, but it is a lesson in black and white not necessarily helping. The emails themselves were too numerous, too quickly written, and obscured the process. Right speech can go wrong in emails as fast as speech. Luckily, all the parties had good intentions and no one was trying to pull the rug over anyone else. However, now I'd be happy to snuggle up with a rug and cease communication for a bit, while I contemplate getting through the temporary crown process, which involves a medieval torture instrument meant to keep the tooth dry while the ruthless dentist drills me.
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