Don't you hate it when things become predictable? I mean seriously, I'm away for four days- OF COURSE there's going to be a major water leak in my kitchen while I'm gone (refer to earlier post). Why wouldn't there be?
So like clockwork, I call my building super first thing Monday morning to come and replaster the now sagging ceiling. Mind you, I make it my business to point out where my light fixture has obviously started to come off of the ceiling from the water damage. Note the word, started. As in if you do something now, it might be prevented.
Well as you can see from the picture, I speak another language. I mean, I must. Because not even fifteen minutes after that slow-eye, no repair skill having, midget of a man walked out my door the damn light fell down!!!
But wait on it- cause there's always more...
When the light fell, rat FECES tumbled out from the ceiling and all over my floor. What in the third-world hell? Perhaps I should just be thankful a mice didn't fall down too, huh?
Anybody got a good realtor?