Another Productive Saturday

Yes, I am procrastinating.

My closets are cleaner than they've been in years. My god, I had no idea they were as large as they are. I can stand inside them and stretch and not hit the walls, and I'm pretty sure I haven't broken any laws of physics in getting more floor space. Cool!

I found all sorts of nifty things, like my crescent wrench and claw hammer, which have been posted to parts unknown for a year or two, and some balloon-pattern tissue paper I didn't know I owned, and the secret breeding ground of the wild bubblewrap (pop!). And if I could get off my ass and take the bags of too large, too polyester clothes to Goodwill, I'd have enough space to add the bookshelf that is currently obstructing half of the bathroom door.

Yes, I am procrastinating, but at least I'm not reading the marked-up Patriot Act, which would not be quite as much like procrastinating - in fact, would not be procrastinating at all - but would put me in a mood even worse than the one created by my discovery of a fifth cache of foam packing sheets, saved just in case I need to ship the Soulless Beast to Siberia. Or something.

The management company is having something done to the pipes/heating system. This is fine. I'm a big fan of replacing the rusted-through parts before we all die in our sleeps of carbon monoxide inhalation, really. However, whatever the Davidis Plumbing Co. is doing - and they've been doing it since Monday - requires lots of turning off of utilities without warning. As far as that goes, I'm a big fan of the employees of the Davidis Plumbing Co. not scalding themselves to death, so I'm inconvenienced but not that upset. I am, however, irritated that the management company still has not notified us that they're having any repairs done or that the water's going to be turned off for entire days.

Also, the plumbers don't have keys to the building, so when they lock themselves out - which is frequently - they start leaning on doorbells until someone lets them in. And, rather than proceeding from one doorbell to the next, they go for the 30-seconds-on, wait-5, 30-seconds-on, wait-5, 40-seconds-on method of ringing one doorbell again and again and again. I do not answer doorbells. I am not at home, even when I'm at home. I do not accept visiting cards on silver trays, I do not serve tea and biscuits, and I will crawl around on the floor rather than answer the door if I'm not expecting someone.

Biting my nose to spite my face? Yeah, I'll admit it, but at a certain point the entire thing becomes a matter of stubborn principle, even when capitulating would be better for everyone involved.

I'm betting that the employees of the Davidis Plumbing Co. like me just about as much as I like them.

Also, they show a striking inability to learn from experience. Perhaps they have inhaled enough carbon monoxide to be considered mad.