Obviously, the guys came here recently. The room has been freshly renovated. New laminate flooring, light wallpaper. It remained only to make ceilings. There was a rolled-out mattress on the floor, which had obviously just been abandoned by this entertaining couple. Still, even the smell of not at all repair hovered around the room. I quickly, in a shaking and stuttering voice, asked what the owners wanted. I coordinated the lighting, the color of the ceiling and the design features, after which I took an optical rangefinder and started measuring. I measure it, write it down, and the handles are shaking, the legs are shaking, the eye is twitching. Somehow I measured this room, said that I would cheat – I would call back, said goodbye, and flew out of the apartment. I went down the stairs like a whirlwind, because I urgently needed to put everything here somewhere. I sat in the car for a while, calmed down and drove on.

We have worked out this application properly. The installation took place, the girl called, thanked us, and later invited us to perform the installation in another room. And who do you think went to the measurement?

..

and how could I not go?

God knows, I didn't want that)) But the Lord does not give tests beyond his strength, right? I had to pass this test with honor once again.

Do you remember how the military regulations say?

"A soldier must endure all the hardships and deprivations of military service with fortitude"

And work is not a service?

Therefore… Arrived, got up. I tuned in, pulled myself together, and pressed the bell, having managed to cross myself before that and spit over my left shoulder at the neighbor's door. She opened the door again. This time her boyfriend was not in the apartment. The girl was wearing some kind of T-shirt and shorts. But the shorts were so short that you could say there were no shorts. This time the measurement was much easier for me. I almost didn't stutter anymore, and again we worked out as it should.

But, as I said above, in 2017, I still liquidated this company. I have a weak heart, well, these are all experiences. You can't work so hard. Take care of yourself, honestly.

Memories took me back to the distant carefree years. I must tell you that I have never been a good boy. Ever since the garden times, he pulled off the neighborhood girls… the one with the flower. I fought with pleasure with "colleagues in the shop." I remember how I tore my T-shirt in a fierce struggle to my garden friend, then I sat and sewed it up on a chair under the strict supervision of a teacher, and my friend, laughing, pointed his finger at me and teased. It was embarrassing, but more humiliating. But now I can sew T-shirts.

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