October 2, 2009

After three days of upheaval, Steve the Plumber whacks a pipe with his shovel and opens a new gash probably as big as the old one. The other interpretation is that after all that in the front yard, he finally found where the leak was. In any case, I’m exactly where I was a week ago. And $3000 poorer. And no real end in sight. At least the shut-off valve is in the basement, where I can climb down and turn it off and on a necessity dictates. He couldn’t finish it tonight because he has plans with friends. He wasn’t going to come in tomorrow because he was going hiking, but he graciously postponed the outset of that. On top of it, a grueling departmental “retreat.” Seven hours of mostly–though, in fairness, not completely-- superfluous yak. The administration is to be thanked that most of our labor has nothing whatever to do with our actual jobs. The good thing about that was that it kept me away from home and observation of the various plumbing fiascos. At lunch I told BH that I was on the verge of a crying jag. He did me the honor of thinking I was joking.

Jason’s opening at the Pump.