Wednesday, March 19, 2008

The definition of "suck"

The time is 9:27 am.

I was awakened an hour ago by a knock on the door: plumbers, here to fix my bathroom sink. The one that's been broken for two weeks. Finally, they're here. They woke me up because I didn't know they were coming, because the wind ripped off the note the landlord left on my door last night.

And so now they're taking a jackhammer to my bathroom floor. About, oh, eight feet from where I'm sitting right now.

Whenever I complain about things, FRINAN always chides me, "Hey, it could be worse." Yes, it can. It can be worse. And it keeps getting worse. Is there a bottom, FRINAN? Because surely we're approaching it now.

I hope.

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