Invited Invader

A man came into my home the other day. He doesn't live here, and while he was invited, he wasn't entirely welcome. His purpose was to repair the leaky shower/tub in my bathroom, and repair it I must admit he did. Nonetheless, and through no real fault of his, I did not really care for his presence. I'm most glad for the impressive diligence of the building's management in dealing with concerns, but the fact remains that interlopers must wreak havoc with our shaky, nascent routines in order to implement the fixes. Having workers in the house is a hard thing to deal with. I don't know how anyone with a domestic staff can live their lives in what is essentially someone else's workplace. I prefer for my home to be nothing but a home to anyone, and certainly not a job site.

The water was turned off and the bathroom occupied, so while some critical areas and functions were rendered inaccessible or inoperative, much of the apartment remained free to travel in and use. Even operating within that, I could not go on as if things were entirely normal. I could almost forget and sink into  my thoughts but for the noises. The man's presence intruded on my consciousness, and I could hardly write anything except this airing of my frustration with being unable to write about what else I might want to. What if I could get him out of my mind and work? He would just finish his work and unwittingly deliver the traumatizing blow of a lifetime by gently knocking on my door and casually informing me the work was done and the water reactivated.

The Longest Day: Part One

There recently was a fairly eventful day in my life by my own standards, and so I feel compelled once again to drag you through several days of recounting the tale. There's fun, excitement, personal growth and frustration, so I would hope it would hold some interest even for the un-entangled reader. Now, I rather knew it would be a full day, but just what a confluence of events and factors it was to entail I really don't imagine I could have guessed. Naturally, this account will transpire over several days.

 The story of the day really begins the night before. The garbage disposal in my apartment and one of the toilets in same had been busted for some time, and finally my roommate was fed up and called the landlady. It's not that I didn't care- I just didn't care enough to call. The point is that I wound up scheduling the handyman's visit. Readers will know how I feel about such men. He wanted to come the following day, and I advised that it wouldn't be a good day. Any day would be good if we were to just let him come and work without our presence. I have no problem with that, but other points of view had to be taken into consideration. At any rate, it came out that if he couldn't come that next day, he couldn't come at all for another week.

Where is that SOB?

Nothing worse than waiting for some jerk to show up at your home during the generous 12 hour window he's given himself that you have to be available for. Cable , internet, a package you have to sign for, doesn't matter what it is. It's the worst. It's especially bad for me here, as difficult as it seems to be to hear when there's someone at the door. I keep things quite for the whole of that time to make sure I hear the light knock at the door by some pillow-handed repairman.

Not that they're really that bad as people, and they generally know their job. I feel bad about hating them sight unseen all day when they show up. In a way, it would feel better if I still didn't like them once I saw them. That's often how it is when you get someone on the phone after calling support. In that case, though, you don't have to wait as long to get someone. It could feel like a while, and might be half an hour or an hour or something like that, but you don't have to clear your day for it. God, I hate waiting for people to come around here.