Wired

Our dubious electricians came by today. Or rather, electrician. Or rather, Bowie. A smallish person of about 19 years of age, in an ARMY shirt, with strangely buggy, strangely enormous, frighteningly pale blue eyes. Doesn't talk much, and when he does, it's in a nearly inaudible mumble. He asked for payment upfront, for "material expenses," asked for the check to be made out to him personally, and then got in his truck and left. Against all odds, he returned about 45 minutes later, apparently still sober, and proceeded to do the work he was supposed to do. I can't say he did it precisely well… Check out the misalignment between the socket and the light switch. And they were insanely expensive, but unlike other electricians in town, they (a) answered their phones, (b) called back, (c) had an opening before December, and (d) actually came to do the work (with one cancellation). 

Now we have:

• a proper outlet for the garbage disposal—thanks to previous electrical hanky-panky, we had been reduced to plugging the cord for the disposal into an extension cord every time we wanted to use it
• that outlet is controlled by a normal switch next to the sink
• a new light over the sink-to-be with a dedicated switch
• one outlet moved (from blow to above the countertop), three new outlets installed
• all kitchen outlets grounded (or so they say—how to test to see if they are actually grounded?)
• refrigerator outlet grounded, allowing fridge to be pushed back one more inch into its alcove

That's it—my hands and forearms hurt a lot today, kind of carpal-tunnelly, so I'm giving them a rest. Also, I only slept about 4 1/2 hours last night, with one of my inexplicable 5 am wakeups. Tomorrow either more floor or some wall work. Maybe wall work for a change.