no more dishpan hands?

This is why I put off buying a new dishwasher for so long.

The delivery and installation did not go smoothly.  My friend was here to chaperone the scary delivery men.  That was only semi-useful, as it made me feel safe, but it didn't help as much with the installation since the main installer didn't speak English.

Something something water line.  Next thing I know, Home Depot is on the phone scheduling one of their plumbers to visit me to remedy my deficient line, which was working just fine until the old dishwasher itself broke.

Unbeknownst to me, the non-English speaker had created a small leak under my kitchen sink, which I discovered two days later when I moved all the cleaning stuff under my sink for the plumber.  The plumber took pics and documented it somewhere to someone.

The plumber (who thankfully spoke English) fixed that leak and then decided to install my dishwasher, which my friend had fortunately advised me to keep on Saturday, even though they wouldn't install it.

He called me into the kitchen several times to advise me of problems.  Sigh.  Yes, I know my countertop is nicked right there.  And there.  And there, too.  Maybe you could also point out the spider living under the cabinet.  And the cobweb in the corner of my tall window that I can't reach to clean.  And while we're being judgmental, how about pointing out the bags under my eyes from not sleeping enough.  I understand it's his job, but my anxiety was not being kind to me.
 
Then he let me know that my oven is extremely close, and he can't open the dishwasher fully.  I explained all of that when I bought the damn thing and was told they're all the same size.  The plumber agreed with that statement, even though he was clearly looking at evidence to the contrary.  Fuck!!  After I dropped several F-bombs, he decided to take some initiative and installed the dishwasher a little off-kilter.  It opens just fine now.  Problem solved.

He tested the dishwasher, which started filling up with water and not leaking everywhere.  Yippee.

However, all of the manuals were still inside, along with some Styrofoam packing.  Oh well, who reads paper manuals?  Then, when I opened the dishwasher to inspect it, I noticed the top rack was rickety as hell.  I called him over, and he played around another few minutes and tightened something up.

At that point, I was eyeing my liquor cabinet and the rum bottle sitting temptingly there.  It was 8:30am. 

He left the old dishwasher for some future team to pick up in a few days.

I tipped him and shooed him out the door.

As I was opening the liquor cabinet, he knocked again and came back for forgotten tools and his flashlight under the sink.

I am proud of myself for taking only one small swig from the rum bottle.  It was medicinal obviously.

I didn't have more medicinal liquor until 6pm, when I made a strawberry yogurt protein smoothie, with a splash of rum.  I excitedly used one of my new crystal glasses, which does not fit in the dishwasher.  Sigh.

I'm using all of my dishes and mugs and bowls and utensils, so I can hurry and fill my new dishwasher and see how well it cleans.  Probably I don't even care anymore.