Lost in Translation

Remember a few weeks ago when it did nothing but rain? And rain and rain and rain? Well, one day I came home to a completely wet closet. There was such an intense waterfall of rain in there that the paint was bubbling up underneath the wall into giant blisters. It was kinda cool, but, you know, not really desirable in a closet. Anyway, long story short, the apartment manager went up on the roof, “fixed” the problem, waited till it stopped raining, and painted the closet. Good as new. Then it started raining again. That’s when we found out that he hadn’t actually fixed the problem (thus the parentheses up there). My closet has been wet and blistery on and off throughout the entirety of this storm season.

Yesterday the apartment manager and I had this conversation (I should stop here and explain that he has some sort of accent from somewhere I can’t for the life of me pinpoint, so he’s not the easiest person to converse with. I’ve cleaned up his grammar here):

Him: How is your closet?
Me: It needs a little work.
Him: I’ll come tomorrow to paint. OK?
Me: Isn’t it supposed to rain tomorrow?
Him: Yes, but I fixed the roof.
Me: Okay, sure, I’ll be at work, but let yourself in.

Of course, today it poured like a mo-fo. When I got home, I had this message on my voicemail: “Hello, this is the manager. As you can see, it’s raining, so I will wait a few days to paint.”

Sigh.

Best thing I watched on TV last night: I just love those L Word girls. Anyone else I know watching this?

Thing on TV I had a problem with: Did Showtime know that two of their “original” programming shows would feature parodies of 9 1/2 Weeks within days of each other? Enough with the blindfolded, sexed-up girls rolling around in front of an open refrigerator!