I think California’s trying to tell me I should be grateful I’ve got to leave. Consider:
1. There are now workmen tearing up the floor of the apartment above mine. This will continue loudly for some time.
2. There was a 6.5 earthquake, which I didn’t even feel because I was in the shower, and probably wouldn’t have found out about for another hour had Coop not asked if we had an earthquake.
3. After staring at CNN for a while, I realized something was dripping. And then I looked up and saw water coming out of my ceiling.
So I call the super over, and when he sees it, he starts cursing (or at least what I assume, given his tone, was cursing) in Russian.
Apparently, the workmen upstairs used water to help remove some wood tiles, when they were explicitly told not to, and thus the dripping in my apartment.
I haven’t heard back from the super as of yet about what, exaclty, I’m supposed to do about this, especially since I’m going to be out of town for the next week.
Blaaaaaaaaaaaaah….