As you may recall, a tree fell on our house during the mad windstorms on March 2.
That was seven weeks ago.
Seven. Weeks.
State Farm completely underestimated the extent of the damage as well as what it will cost to repair it. I mean, of course they did.
The roofer sent an updated proposal for the repairs to State Farm…the week of Spring Break.
Meanwhile, there’s still a big ass hole in our house!
And it’s finally starting to let water into the livable parts of the house.
To State Farm I say a vehement:
There’s absolutely no excuse that the work isn’t finished…even less that it hasn’t started. YBW’s at his wit’s end with these jokers. Seeing the toll it’s taking on him, I offered to handle the situation from here on out. The relief on his face made me sad I hadn’t offered sooner.
When you call and are forced to leave messages day after day, your messages tend to become less and less polite.
I’ve gone quickly from “butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth” to:
Five weeks until graduation.
Five weeks until a house full of people needs places to lay their heads.
Oh, State Farm, I’m just shaking my head. Oh, roofer dude, you’re getting off any better.
I’m going to need for y’all to get it together. This little red haired girl is over the run around.
You should be afraid…I’m just sayin’.
therobynbirdsnest 