Old Work Journal in anticlimatic

Found this old work journal of mine back when I worked maintenance for state housing. Lots of interesting characters there, I miss that job from time to time.

THURSDAY, JULY 30TH 2015

Went to Hooker’s apartment to check on ‘a loose cupboard drawer.’ After a few rounds of knocking, she finally answered her door in a blanket at the ass crack of 11:00am. The ‘loose drawer’ was actually a drawer with the front of it ripped completely off and smashed into pieces. She told me she ‘may or may not have done that in a fit of rage.’ I didn’t ask what it was about. Took about an hour to take the mangled mess back to the shop and buff it out carpenter style. I brought her a tiny weed flower that I grabbed on the way back over as an apology for ‘waking her up so early.’ She appreciated it.

After that I did some work for an older lady that reminded me a bit of a super poor version of Miss Havisham from Great Expectations. She laid on her sofa chain smoking menthol 100s in the shuttered darkness and stared at me like a steak while I took apart her blinds mechanism. She told me she hears voices sometimes, which is an oddly cliche thing for a crazy lady to be saying, but she made it earnest enough somehow. Didn’t really know what to say to that, so I went with a generic ‘well, that’s a woman’s prerogative!’ and she lit up. I have a feeling things may be ‘breaking’ over there quite often now. She also had me take a look at her toilet seat, and claimed that it makes a horrible breaking-glass sound any time she sits on it. I sat on it. I wiggled it around. I flipped the lids up and down. It made no such sound for me.

After that I spent the rest of the day doing work for the Partridge Family. Really big mamma, scrawny bearded nerdy dad (not one of the Beard Dads though) and their three kids, two girls ages 7 and 8, and a little toddler boy. Dad just sat at his massive computer rig in the corner and played wow, while mom kind of floated around the house scatter brained. Not the brightest pair, but I like them for some reason. The oldest daughter is an unruly and destructive monster, the second oldest girl has a thing for climbing to the top of everything (counters, chairs, chairs on top of counters, etc), and the little boy just bumbles around and gives me things. An Aladdin 2 DVD? “Why THANK YOU.” Big smile from the kid. Oh, an old fork you found behind the vent? “THANKS SO MUCH.” Another big smile. Within a few minutes after getting there all three kids were on me like white on rice for the duration of my visit. Literally one on each shoulder, and another in front of me with its face right where I’m trying to work. Too cute to mind that they were slowing me down enormously.

FRIDAY, JULY 31ST 2015

Ran into the Comedian today for the first time in a while. He made like he was going to avoid me, then stopped halfway across the parking lot- turned around- and lit up a cigar in almost slow motion. He was sporting his usual beret and thin-rim glasses, and asked me very seriously how my day was going. “Great. How’s your day going?” His response was another very serious statement: “Every day is a blessing.” I laughed and told him I liked his attitude. He puffed on his cigar without changing his expression in the slightest. Either I ruined his comedic perspective on things completely with my prior remark, or he’s taking it up to the next level with complete deadpan. Hoping it’s the later.

Also was treated to a Batman sighting, my first so far. I’ve seen Batgirl (his girlfriend) quite a bit, but never the official Bat Man. Apparently he just got out of jail, so I’ll be seeing him a lot more often. He was arrested for ‘obstructing an investigation’ after police officers, who were in pursuit through the woods with dogs after a fleeing drunk driver, came across him in the woods (in full batman costume) instead. They tried telling him to leave, but he insisted that he wanted to help. They explained that the dogs were sniffing out and coming to him instead of who they were actually looking for, so Batman agreed to leave. Half hour later, the dogs found him again. Still creeping through the woods trying locate the perp. They didn’t really want to, but they had to arrest him after that. The drunk driver got away.

A few years ago they also had to come and rescue him after he got stick hanging off of the hardware store roof downtown after hours.

MONDAY, AUGUST 3RD 2015

Got treated to a nice little peace of theater this morning while I was standing on a ladder in the laundry room doorway trying to repair a door jam that a weekend storm wrecked. Across two parking lots on the far unit I heard some sarcastically encouraging shouting coming from a balcony. Dude standing there in his bath robe, yelling at two departing women and a small child: “Sure, go on and hang out with DAVE! But don’t let him see his own fucking FATHER!” The women didn’t respond.

Had to go do some work in Silent Bob’s apartment after that, which I had been dreading. I banged on the door for five minutes with no response. Put my ear to it and I could hear someone shuffling around, and snickering. Thought about trying again later but I wanted to get it over with, so I used my master key and let myself in. I was greeted with the back side of a dude in headphones laughing at nothing while hitting a crack pipe. I swatted him in the back of the head and jumped back in case he had a knife or something. He turned around, and didn’t even seem bothered. Crack’s a hell of a drug I guess.

Silent Bob was sleeping in his bedroom, this guy here turned out to be a ‘friend’ of his; a floating vagrant with an army issued duffel bag. Silent Bob ended up coming out, and I got to hear him speak a little. Not the little-girl voice I expected, but a mostly normal grown man voice. Maybe he’ll say hi to me now…

THURSDAY, AUGUST 6TH 2015

Two big events coincided today: the annual tarring of the parking lots, and the annual resident picnic of which I was strongly encouraged (at gunpoint, by my boss) to attend. Now, there are people that live here that I get along with. Some working single mothers, some guys who work jobs that just so happen to pay shit but are otherwise normal dudes, but since the picnic was at 1:00 PM on a Thursday afternoon I knew it would be none of those people, and would instead be a merry jamboree of everyone on welfare and disability that annoys the shit out of me. Boy do I hate being right all the time.

I won’t go picking on low hanging fruit today, but I spent most of that afternoon hunkered down in the shade by myself like Andy Dufrane on the roof of the license plate factory (it was on my mind, like I said they were tarring the parking lots)- except in one of those fold out chairs half asleep. A bunch of kids ages 5-12 showed up and woke me up after about an hour, so I tried making myself useful by channeling their energy towards the basketball courts away from the food (last time I played basketball I was a freshman in high school, and I was terrible then- haven’t improved by avoiding it like I thought I might have), and after that I got my ass kicked by two five year old girls at lawn darts, which might have had something to do with the fact that they felt it were fair to stand 3 inches away from the ring while I stood 20 feet. One of them also demanded that I pick her a particular yellow flower that was deep in bee territory. She then opened a fresh bottle of water like she was going to drink it- dumped half of it out, and stuck the flower inside. Kind of a waste, but she seemed pretty proud of herself, so that’s worth something.

MONDAY, AUGUST 10TH 2015

Got my week started right by digging post holes at dawn with a slight hangover. This was aggravated by the fact that I had to watch Beard Dad #2 build sandcastles in the sandbox with his kid while I did it. That fucker. Just livin the jobless dream.

Despite my best efforts I got sucked into No Big Deal Dave’s bottomless abyss of rambling insanity this afternoon. He’s like that old person you know who starts telling a story and just never stops- pieces of the first story getting impromptu back stories, then pieces of the back stories getting impromptu back stories, and so on, and so on, for eternity. Except legitimately crazy.

I was supposed to stop by and fix Dave’s fridge. “FRIDGE DOESN’T WORK RIGHT.” That’s what it said on the work order. What was wrong with it, you ask? Well, so did I, after messing with it for a while and finding nothing out of the ordinary. “Well it used to close on its own when you opened it, now it doesn’t.” At which point Dave gave me a demonstration by opening the door, and letting it go. Gravity pulled it half way closed, and then it stopped. A tiny poke with a pinky finger sent it closing the rest of the way. I broke his heart with the news that there was nothing I could do about that, but gave him hope with the suggestion that it was likely just the humidity and might correct itself once it cooled off some.

Also saw the Comedian again today, sitting in the grass with a guitar playing and singing a song to a very pissed off looking girl in a wheel chair. I think he thought he was bringing some joy to her life. I think she just wanted him to fuck off, but lacked the motor skills necessary to get away. Felt for her.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 14TH 2015

Today was the annual yard sale day for the residents, which meant I got to show up at work at the crack of 7am and start hauling out and setting up tables in the narrow grass islands between parking lots. The cars that were parked adjacent to these spaces all had to be moved right away for some reason, so my next task was to start banging on doors and windows trying to find their owners.

At 8 am.

In a community where almost no one has a job.

First person I woke up took 15 minutes of nearly solid banging. After that I went and got my big black 12 inch Maglite and started knocking with that (my knuckles were getting sore) like the damn police. That got some results, and boy did I see some chipper and happy faces, let me tell you. At one unit a young girl in a bra with a baby on her hip answered the door, and before I could even get through my apologetic ‘please move your car’ speech she grabbed her keys off of the table, threw them at me, and slammed the door in my face without uttering a word.

I am pretty sure the sway bar fell off of that piece of shit while I was parking it…

Anyway, the yard sale went well. I was expecting to see a slightly more broken version of the Walmart clearance isle, but the residents actually came through with some slightly interesting stuff. One guy just had a massive organized spread of Life Magazines, another seemed to specialize in electronics and had some old CB radios and even a police scanner. Of course I was too busy to shop, but there were a couple things I probably would have nabbed if I happened to have cash on me and time, but oh well.

The event had The Comedian in high spirits, and I think I managed to get back in his default good graces. I was troubleshooting a handicap button that stopped working for the door on his building. New battery didn’t do it, so I filed down all of the contact points, hooked it back up, and hit the button to test it (for like the 30th time) and it finally worked! just as he happened to walk up to it. For some reason he thought I did it on purpose to make him think that his aura opened the door, or something like that (I didn’t really take much of what he said in, I was still focused on the project).

Afterwards he called me an “awesome gentleman” and offered me his fist. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Never been offered a fist bump before. So I kind of gave it a little tap-punch, and I think it satisfied him. It must have restored his sense of humor, because later that day when I was 20 feet in the air on a ladder ripping out caulk, he stopped by to ask if I would mind if he kicked the ladder out from under me. I asked him to give me a few hours to think about it, and he laughed way too hard. I’m not sure his good graces is where I want to be at all.

MONDAY, AUGUST 17TH 2015

Too hot to be working outdoors today, so naturally the powers that be passed down a mandate that we work outdoors. I was tempted to mandate they go fuck themselves, but thought better of it and just danced to the music. Place was like a ghost town. All of the residents barricaded themselves inside behind their air conditioners. A squeaky swing on the playground rocking in the periodic breeze was the about the only thing that moved. Except me. Though I felt like I was moving in slow motion, while drunk. Don’t think I react well to the heat. Tried my hand at about 3 different tasks- weeding, digging, and drilling some holes in the concrete- and had to give up on all of them due to the fear of blacking out, falling down, and helplessly cooking to death on the sidewalk…where I would go utterly unnoticed until the following morning. I don’t think squeaky swing would come to my rescue anytime soon.

I did see one resident- The Comedian- sitting on his balcony, oppressed into the corner by the sun. “Your cool” he says to me as I walk by. “Wouldn’t that be nice” I replied.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 19TH 2015

Hooker was on the prowl today, peacocking some bright orange sneaker laces and a gray off-the-shoulder band T shirt. She was chatting up a different guy at different corner of the property (most of which were wearing shirts) every time I saw her. If she wasn’t visiting, she was strutting towards the next rendezvous chatting on her cell phone. The final liaison I witnessed was with the comedian of all people, and it looked like she finally nabbed one because they both went inside pretty quick. I often wonder what goes on here during the night, when these people actually come alive. What chapters I am missing! I would love it if the Comedian and the Hooker were involved somehow.

Got to do some more work on old Miss Havisham’s unit today (bathroom sink drain stopper). She answered the door in her bath robe, and was kind enough to offer me coffee and a doughnut while I was working on it. So after I finished, I sat down in her parlor for a bit and enjoyed those (the coffee was actually really good) while she lit up another menthol 100 and told me about her years in Florida.

Last friday I was in another old lady’s unit changing out a smoke detector battery (she couldn’t reach it), and while we were waiting to make sure the new battery was working (don’t ask, the humidity is wreaking havoc on these things) she showed me her blackberry haul that she spent all day picking. Enough for a couple pies, she reckoned. While she was talking I noticed this large 8×10 framed photograph on the wall of this old abandoned house that was falling down. She told me that they tore it down not long after she took the photo, but it was an important landmark in her past that she shared with a few people. Said she tried to have copies made in the past, but the negatives were some kind of odd experimental shape and no one had the equipment to duplicate it (must have been the late 80s). I told her I had all the equipment for that, and I’d be happy to crank her out a few copies of various sizes if I could just borrow it for the weekend, which I did and did, and slid under her door monday morning.

Anyway, short story long, after leaving Miss Havisham’s unit I received a message from my boss that the old lady I did the photos for wanted me to stop by. I refused her money and told her that if she ever got around to baking those pies that I’d take a nice fat 25% slice as payment and she readily accepted those terms with quite the beaming smile. I told her I was a pie guy. That no guy was a bigger pie guy than this guy. After that she showed me a few things that I didn’t notice the first time- that she was actually an artist, quite good at painting drawing and sculpting. I saw one portrait, but mostly landscapes. I really liked her tastes. She told me she was glad to make a new friend.

An oddly heartwarming day.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 25TH 2015

Rained all day, which was a nice change of pace from the weeks long baking in the sun. Most of the residents stayed indoors except the group of 8-12 year olds who took plenty of pleasure running amok in the dim afternoon. I started the day in the 300 building’s laundry doorway, trying to drill different holes in cement than the holes I failed to drill yesterday (ill equipped for the task), and one of them startled me coming in the door. The kid had caught a baby snapping turtle somehow and had it in a cup- needed to use the wash tub to put some water in it. I think they’re growing on me a bit. After the picnic they all wave to me whenever I see them, except for this one little boy who looks about 8 and walks a jack russell by himself every morning- he just gives me a weirdly adult and very serious head nod. That reminds me, I’ve tried saying hello and even a bit of random small talk on Silent Bob since hearing him speak in his apartment, but I haven’t gotten a peep yet. Best I’ve managed was to get him to stand there for a couple minutes instead of running away like he usually does.

In the afternoon I did some grimy work repairing a garbage disposal for this young couple. I recognized the girl as the one in her bra who threw her keys at me that morning I was knocking on doors waking people up. Her boyfriend, I swear, was a baby. Not in disposition, but in sheer appearance. I would have put him at 15 tops. Regardless, I liked them both almost immediately. They had a certain earthy intelligence and warmth to them and seemed to get along better and more naturally than most of the other couples there. Maybe it’s just youth? I don’t remember. The girl gave me some attitude while I was explaining what I thought the problem was (jammed by foreign metal object). “I didn’t do anything” and “it wasn’t me” kind of stuff. I promptly pulled out a mangled bobby pin and held it up. “So you don’t use bobby pins?” She smiled really big. “No. Of course I don’t. Why would I…” before making a quick retreat from her own sarcasm to the back room. Baby-faced boyfriend got a kick out of that.

Also had my second Batman sighting, though still not in costume. I think he’s been banned from wearing it, actually, but that’s just hearsay as far as I know. The rain must have stirred the inner depths of his tortured soul into roaming the city streets, looking for some justice. Later I saw the Comedian and Old Hound Dog guy (old republican guy with a hound) sitting on the sofa in this other fella’s apartment (who had a leak under his sink). It’s always interesting to me to see who visits who, who is friends with who, who is family, etc. There is actually something of a ‘community’ here, which for some reason I didn’t expect.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8TH

Haven’t had a chance to interact with the residents in a couple weeks, due largely in part to a few major time consuming projects that held me up. The first one was Lenny my partner’s fault. Late in the day on a routine drywall patch job, he put a screw through a copper pipe in the ceiling that fed the heating system upstairs. Since it was just as we were getting ready to leave for the day, and since the only way to kill the water to the boiler system is to kill all the water to the entire building (bad plumbing in that unit), and since there’s no way to ‘patch’ a pressurized water line until morning, and since I’m the resident plumbing expert, I got to stay four hours late to deal with it. This involved first ripping out all the drywall, then cutting a notch in the massive load bearing support beam that the pipe ran through, then cutting the split piece of pipe out, then torching a fresh piece of pipe in there. This last step was the most challenging. To solder a pipe, it has to be completely dry- but there was quite a bit of water trapped ‘upstream’ from where I had it cut. This causes it to drip down steadily, but never completely empty. I had to run downstairs to the boiler room, drain some water from the boiler itself (this would pull the water forward for a little while, buying me a few minutes time before it would return), then run back upstairs, pull the fitting in place, spark the torch, and get it soldered in before any water came back. I couldn’t afford a single fuckup because I only had the one swivel fitting, and there was nothing open at that hour to get another. Fortunately, after a couple trial runs, checking time between draining and drip returns, I went for it, and it went smoothly. Thought the hard part was over.

Next morning I get to work and discover that the water leak had gotten into the old support beam and rotted it at the joint. It broke loose from the wall where it was mounted and came to rest on the pipe that I had just soldered in there- which is not good at all. I argued with Lenny about the best approach to take to deal with it, and after his method failed miserably (he wanted to just attach a sister beam to it, and bolt it to the wall where the old one had formally rested- didn’t work because the wall was too soft) I got to try my idea, which ended up working:

( Show Spoiler )
Using a floor jack and a 4×4 beam I raised the support back up to where it should be, then notched out 1×2 inches from the lesser floor supports that ran parallel to it, and bolted a 2×4 in there sideways to distribute the weight. That took two days, and I spent the rest of the week doing the drywall for it.

I swear I spend 30% of my time finishing Lenny’s projects, and 70% of the time doing everything else.

After that mess I did get to do some more service work. Someone’s mailbox latch mechanism came apart, and while I was fixing it the comedian wandered in and said hello. I asked how it was going, and he shook his head at me and said “If you only knew who I was.” I asked who he was. He asked if I believed in Jesus. I said sure, and asked if he was an angel of the lord. He started laughing and began singing sympathy for the devil by the stones. I asked if he was a fallen angel instead, and he said no, that he wasn’t Lucifer, but that he knew him. I asked him if he had a pair of pliers I could borrow to finish my work since I left mine in the shop on the other side of the complex, and he merrily ran across the street to his own unit and returned with some for me. You’d be surprised how eager the jobless are to help out if and when they can.

Also had to go break up a small domestic dispute after complaints were had over their shouting. They were in the process of moving out. Young couple with a baby, friends with the other young couple with a baby that I’ve mentioned and done some work for. I peeked my head around the open door and quietly asked how their day was going. He was obviously fuming, she was obviously fuming. He was pacing, she was standing in the kitchen texting. He said his day was going FUCKING GREAT THANKS FOR ASKING, because he was having to deal with a bunch of ‘dramatic people.’ She piped up and added to the discussion we were having that he was a ‘no good cheating piece of shit.’ I told them to keep it down and got out of there. Got the dirt on that situation from the other young couple later. Seems he may or may not have knocked up another chick in the complex. Who knows, you know how those things go. I don’t judge.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 11TH 2015

Got woken up by the emergency phone at 1:00 AM. One of the residents had a spider in her room, and wanted me to come kill it. I informed her that I was only allowed to come in if water was leaking all over the place, her power failed, or she locked herself out. I know I’m more or less a surrogate father and husband to most of the single women and children there (there everyday; in charge of doing all their ‘guy stuff’), but this is getting a bit ridiculous.

This old lady told me she hated any mention of 9/11 while I was replacing her garbage disposal. She told me her father died on 9/11 a long time ago, and she found the body in a very unpleasant fashion. I felt for her.

Received word later in the day that Hooker was looking for me in pink lipstick and a tank top. As I was reading the text she invaded my tool shed and asked if I could come look at something for her. Naturally, I wiped the grease from my hands in a Bruce Springsteen fashion, and obliged her. What she had to show me was black mold growing all over most of her clothes in the closet. I advised her to burn them and get a dehumidifier. She said she could get one easily, but declared that the clothes were designer, and wanted some way to clean them. I had to direct her elsewhere for such an answer, changed a light bulb in her bedroom instead, and left. Right before I left she called her ‘daddy,’ switched to a different tone of voice than any I’d heard before, and put in the dehumidifier request. I wager she’ll get one.

Just learned that the Mrs Havisham lady is going to be moving out soon. Going to Florida to be closer to her brother or some such. Don’t blame her, she seems like she belongs in Florida, but I’ll be sad to see her go.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 17TH 2015

Ms. Havisham gave us a bit of a scare today. She had an appointment at the office to renew her lease but never showed, and when the admin assistant walked up to her unit to remind her she found the door ajar and an open bottle of pills sitting on the coffee table. She was too afraid to find her dead (no response to shouting over the threshold), and thus came to get me to do it. I admit I was a bit freaked out myself, but a quick but cautious walkthrough of the apartment revealed no one home. Apparently she just got jacked up on her meds and took a walk somewhere. Turned up later on cloud nine.

Got yelled at (kind of?) by Beard Dad #2 as well, though in a female passive aggressive ISFJ kind of way. This is the same guy I loaned a wrench to way back when to hook up a bike tote (one nut, one screw, 20 minutes of painful-to-watch dicking around with it). Pulled a work order to walk around the property with a bucket of paint and give all the porch posts a fresh coat. His post was stacked with vine racks and they were tied to it with fishing line- a task that probably took him an entire afternoon’s worth of daylight. I devastated his handywork with a single quick swipe of a razor, and leaned all his vine racks against each other nearby. A moment later he emerged from the side door, shirtless, disapproval strewn all over his face. “If you need help with anything, all you need to do is ask.” I told him that yeah, if he could go ahead and get all the shit moved away from this area here where I was going to put my ladder in the 5 minutes it was going to take me to go and get it, that would be great. When I got back nothing was moved, so I just moved it myself.

Saw the comedian having a conversation with another guy in the middle of the sidewalk when I was walking past. Nothing that unusual, except that they were standing about one inch from each other for the entire duration of it. Maybe the guy was near deaf? Seemed a bit close to me.

I got the paraplegic girl to finally talk to me after months of smiling and waving without any response except staring (not that I expected anything- this is the girl I saw scowling at the comedian when he was serenading her in the grass). She drove by in her wheel chair and stopped while I was painting another post, and said she had a question for me. I stopped what I was doing and we chatted for a little bit. Couldn’t answer her question, but it was nice to finally exchange some sentences. Later that afternoon I saw her again getting loaded into the van. I waived at her as usual, and this time she smiled back. That was a first.

Towards the end of the day I had another bit of a scare, and this one’s lingering. There’s this young lady who is always alone, who judging by her vehicle and clothing looks like she came from an upper middle class background. She always walks very slow, like she’s brittle, never talks to anyone, usually wears huge sunglasses and sun dresses, and makes many trips back and forth from someplace during the afternoon. The temperature this afternoon spiked pretty high, so I was having a bit of a siesta in this recliner we rescued from the dumpster area that morning. Her apartment is just across the way from the garage door, and I heard her walk outside and make a noise that I first thought was a laugh- something I’d never heard out of her. Made me pay attention some, and I realized it wasn’t a laugh at all. She was sobbing into the phone at her mother in between screams of frustration and declarations of suicide (again, I hadn’t even heard her speak before this, despite seeing her all the time). “I can’t do this anymore. Every day I’m suffering, and suffering, and suffering.” She walked right past the door and noticed me reclined in the chair. I didn’t quite know what to do or say so I just made eye contact until she passed by. I got up and poked my head out and she had disappeared. I’d be curious to talk to her sometime and find out what her deal is, but those walls seem tall and strong.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 28TH 2015

Summer refuses to relent. I don’t mind at all, though it does slow me down some on the job. Makes sense why southerners get the reputation for being lazy. Enduring exertion in warm weather is difficult.

Had to climb up on a roof today and lean over a 5 story drop to measure some aluminum trim. Storm blew a chunk of it off last winter, and we need to get it replaced before the big inspection by top brass in October. Being up high is one thing, but being up high while trying to wield a drill gun and a giant piece of aluminum trim is another. Might have to put that project on permanent AVOID. Lenny is even more afraid of heights than I am, and I have a feeling he’s counting on me to just magically finish the task like I do most things he starts, but I fear he’ll be disappointed.

Spent the rest of the day hauling a ladder and the electrical bag around, trying to resurrect a bunch of battery powered emergency hallway lights that hadn’t been serviced since the Regan administration.

Saw hooker do the walk of shame back to her house around 11:00AM in white heels and a big sweater over a party dress. Clearly not giving a single fuck.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 9TH 2015

Had a chance to do some work in Crying Girl’s apartment today. She was oddly chipper, like the other day never happened. It was the first time I had been in her place, and the way she was bending over backwards apologizing for not being able to fix the issue herself, I could tell she was of the self-sufficient mentality. Also got a ‘raised catholic’ vibe off of her, but I didn’t bother asking. I didn’t bother asking why she was always hobbling around and crying either, but I’d like to build a bit more of a rapport before that- which is difficult considering how left alone she prefers to be by everyone. Perhaps patience will win out. We got off on the right foot.

Babyfaced Couple for some reason has raised my bosses ire, and is on the chopping block for eviction. She randomly gets it in her head that she wants to evict people, and then pursues it guns blazing. Not sure why exactly. I plan on subverting her and doing what I can to sabotage her efforts with a little espionage. They’re some of my favorite tenants, and they have a little baby. Can’t just sit by and let them get the boot without at least trying.

Mrs. Havisham isn’t leaving after all. She (my boss-Boss) redacted her notice to vacate, deciding instead to try again next summer. I think she just didn’t have all the paperwork involved in her, and decided to just cool her heels. Had coffee in her place after re-hanging her shower curtain. She told me stories about her grandfather, “Papa,” that she was raised by in Chicago. He managed a block sized retail outlet, and was very handy and warm and funny. His father used to drive a milk truck that was drawn by a horse, and was a raging alcoholic. We speculated that alcoholism was genetic, and often skipped a generation as people chose not to act on the behavior that affected their parents so much- and the children whose parents didn’t act on it didn’t have any reason not to, thus went the cycle. It was a nice chat.

The Comedian gifted me a silver ring of friendship that he used to use to lead a group of children involved in mystical magic in the name of our lord Jesus Christ. I wish I was making this up. It’s a neat little ring though (my precious!) and I plan on wearing it at work from now on. I have a rare, very biblical first name, and he almost shat a brick when he learned it. There is another girl who lives in the complex who is kind of like the resident ‘sage.’ She is INFJ I think (same goes for the comedian), and she’s also a huge fan of my first name. Every time I see her she says hello to me by name (often across the parking lot), and then follows it with “most beautiful name in the world.” Now the comedian is doing something similar. Hope I can hold out a while longer without hurting his feelings, but I can only take so much attention.

Two more weeks until the big government inspection, and we have about four months of work to complete in that time. My main boss has similar time management abilities as my immediate boss/partner (Lenny), which is to say terrible insane wtf time management abilities, so while they’re busing jerking each other off on how much they are going to accomplish in such a small amount of time, I’m kind of biting my nails in the corner dreading the incoming meltdown when only a small percentage of that actually happens. I feel a coworker storm a’coming…

Last updated November 08, 2020