Jan. 14th, 2010

yaramaz: (Default)
Remember a few weeks ago when the heater died and the sink faucet died and gas burners died and possibly a few other things also died, that I've simply repressed in my memory? Remember how I was taking bets on what would go next?

Did anyone place bets on bathroom?

You did? Fabulous! You won--- and at double the odds! Wooot!

So, yeah, huh, dang, this morning the toilet kinda had severe plumbing issues AND the shower stall kinda came out of the wall when D. opened the sliding door. So, yeah, I'm spending my first real day off sitting on the couch, semi supervising the stream of repairmen passing through.  There is a lot of drilling going on now behind the closed bathroom door. I may be here all day. They haven't even brought in a replacement stall yet. I hope we get a replacement one, as the old one was on its last rusting, peeling, jamming legs.

I'm sleeping badly now that classes are over, with my circadian rhythms readjusting themselves to their natural state wherein bedtime is sometime between midnight and 3am, oblivious to the fact that D. is up at 6:30am so I also wake then (I'm a very light sleeper and as soon as he opens the closet or bedroom door, I'm awake).  I have been having odd waking dreams sometime in the early hours- like waking at 3:30am quite certain that I'm in the middle of a speaking test but uncertain how to go about doing it in bed in the dark when I can't see the candidate and am doubtful that they'd even be awake at this hour.  Even my unconscious mind overthinks things.
yaramaz: (Default)
Dear Plumber,

When you come to fix a stopped up toilet, which is full to the brim with unspeakable unpleasantness, please don't casually flush again to see what happens and flood the bathroom and make the whole toilet itself unspeakably unsanitary, inside and out (and for me to clean). Also, before you leave, please give the unspeakably unpleasant floor a bit more attention than just a quick once over with a soaking wet, unsoapy mop. It doesn't help. Also, please don't take our plunger when you go. We need it. Really. See Note to Repairman for further details as to why you shouldn't steal our fucking plunger.

Dear Repairman,

When you come to re-bolt the shower stall back onto the wall, don't drop all your bits of plaster, bolts, screws, etc down the shower drain. It is now clogged. We have no plunger. Also, please try to tidy up just a tiny bit before you leave so I don't have to spend an hour trying to clean up the remnants of the clogged toilet mixed with plaster and mud and dirt and odd bits and pieces both in the shower stall and around the bathroom.  I resent having to stick my hand down the shower drain to extract your odds and ends. When I went to rinse out the incredibly grimy stall, it wouldn't drain. We have no plunger. See Note to Plumber.

Dear Landlady,

Although I appreciate you taking time out of your day to supervise the repair of the shower stall, I would be a bit more grateful if, as you left, you didn't turn to me and advise me sweetly to just be more careful next time.

Careful? The fucking screws came out of the wall, cracked, when D. slid the door open. It has been sticking for months. It's rusting and cracking. Now, after the morning's repairs, the left sliding door doesn't even move or align properly so one must slide in to the shower sideways and hope the water doesn't spray through the one-inch gap.

Sigh.



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