vulgarweed | The Russians are coming!

No, actually, they were already here. My landlord's work crew, to fix the two (2!) separate leaks in my apartment. (One over the bathtub that dripped when the upstairs neighbors took a shower and one in the front room that dripped when it rained.) OK guys, worked fast, got the new drywall up and it looks pretty much the same (to my jaded eye that has no particular concern for interior visuals).

The one who spoke a little English was even a cat lover and bonded with Madimi, so I knew he wouldn't be reckless about letting her out. For her part, for the first half hour she was all like, "Who's that! What's that noise!" doing her little meerkat pose. Then she went to sleep.

For my part, I bristle cause I'm territorial and don't like strange men in my very small living space, but the worst part was the timing.

8:00 in the goddamn morning? Is that shit really necessary? Why are construction workers so obsessed with the crack of dawn? (Insert "carpenter crack" joke here.)

I'm tempted to study the trades just so I can show up to work during my own peak hours of alertness and talent and the hours of most of my work for pay: roughly 10 PM to 3 AM. Hey, it's just a belt sander, don't mind me. Just gotta knock out this moldy drywall, just go about your business! What, you're asleep? In your jammies at this hour? You're wasting the best part of the day! **disapproving look, subtle implication that you must not have to really work for a living.**

They were nice guys. I'd drink vodka with 'em any day. But I'm discovering tonight that two of my windows leak too, and I'm not going to tell my landlord for another month or two. I need to recover.