God Himself Couldn't Sink This Apartment

Welcome to "My Apartment = Titanic", the sequel.  In actuality, this is the middle movie of an epic trilogy that has yet to reach it's final conclusion.

Today I woke up bright and early and dragged myself out to my couch to await the maintenance men, who arrived at a timely 8:30 am.  Here is a summary of what happened between then and 12:00:

Holes Chopped in the Wall: 8
Maintenance Men Called in for Service: 7
Failed Attempts to Locate the Leaking Pipe: 5
"We'll be back"s said: 4
Disruptions of Neighbors to Check their Apartments: 3
Major Appliances Moved Around: 2
Gigantic Water Sucker Vacuums: 1
Gigantic Industrial Fans: 1

At that point, around noon, I decided that I couldn't take it anymore, and had to get out of the apartment.  For one thing, the sound of hammering through my shower tile was making my already splitting headache about ten times worse, and watching these men cut hole after hole in my walls, was stressing me out (especially since they were all speaking in Spanish and so I didn't have a clue what was going on beyond the occasional exasperated sigh).  So I picked myself up and went out to Walgreens, Half-Price Books, the super-fancy local mall (decked out in an AOII hoodie and baggy jeans...the high-heeled women judged me), and eventually got a burrito to go from Chipotle and drove to campus, where I sought solace under the shadow of the Meadows Art Museum with my burrito and Coke.  That was the most peaceful moment of my day...probably because it was the quietest.  No pounding, no droning on of professors, and no computer screen staring in my face.  But unfortunately, the burrito drew to a close, and (quite full) I dawdled over to the library where I sat in a comfy armchair and tried not to fall asleep.

Classes tonight were horrible to get through.  My mind was so preoccupied with anxiety about my apartment that I couldn't focus, and so for six hours straight I was watching the clock waiting for the moment when I could get home.  When that merciful moment finally DID arrive, I was relieved to see that the giant holes had all been mostly patched up, if not yet painted over, and my shower usable.  The giant fan still remains, and I've been moving it about strategically between the three major water spots, which are still sopping wet (the towels stopped soaking things up after awhile).  I also found two notes about returning for more maintenance tomorrow, and a palpable layer of dust coating practically everything in my living room from the reapplication of drywall, I'm guessing.  Not cool.  Some friends at school offered to come over and clean, and I may end up having to take them up on that.  But not until after maintenance is legitimately done.

To be continued...