windows installation problems

No, this is not a computer post.

I got up this morning, had tea and yogurt (with an apple today--quite tasty) and headed out to L's around 10, to provide moral support and someone to spell her so she could step outside for a moment if need be.

When I got there, there were sounds of construction from elsewhere in the building, but the contractors hadn't come to her door yet. The super, the night before, had told her she'd be first.

A man named Jose knocked, and took a look around the apartment to see what needed doing. (Apparently no two apartments in this building are the same--I don't know how many have apparently pointless acute angles next to bedroom doors, though.) He also said they'd decided to rearrange the schedule. Either she or her next-door neighbor was being rescheduled to tomorrow. We'll tell you later which. Right.

So I drank tea and read, and she had some oatmeal, and eventually found the super, or someone equivalent. (The details got somewhat confused here, which may not have been accidental.) Because of mumble-mumble-mumble, they were postponing her window replacement until tomorrow morning. No apology, no clear explanation--never mind that this was a Monday, and she'd just wasted a vacation day, and I'd dragged myself out to Brooklyn when I should have been going to the gym.

So we grumbled a bit more, then went out into sudden bright sunshine. We went to Moroccan Star, now relocated a little closer to the harbor (the previous location is apparently slated for demolition), where I had onion soup au gratin and what looked like a huge slice of chicken pie, of which I left a single raisin. L kindly bought me lunch. Thence to Sahadi, for tea and other useful or amusing things, enough of same that I came home instead of going to the gym.

windows installation problems

No, this is not a computer post.

I got up this morning, had tea and yogurt (with an apple today--quite tasty) and headed out to L's around 10, to provide moral support and someone to spell her so she could step outside for a moment if need be.

When I got there, there were sounds of construction from elsewhere in the building, but the contractors hadn't come to her door yet. The super, the night before, had told her she'd be first.

A man named Jose knocked, and took a look around the apartment to see what needed doing. (Apparently no two apartments in this building are the same--I don't know how many have apparently pointless acute angles next to bedroom doors, though.) He also said they'd decided to rearrange the schedule. Either she or her next-door neighbor was being rescheduled to tomorrow. We'll tell you later which. Right.

So I drank tea and read, and she had some oatmeal, and eventually found the super, or someone equivalent. (The details got somewhat confused here, which may not have been accidental.) Because of mumble-mumble-mumble, they were postponing her window replacement until tomorrow morning. No apology, no clear explanation--never mind that this was a Monday, and she'd just wasted a vacation day, and I'd dragged myself out to Brooklyn when I should have been going to the gym.

So we grumbled a bit more, then went out into sudden bright sunshine. We went to Moroccan Star, now relocated a little closer to the harbor (the previous location is apparently slated for demolition), where I had onion soup au gratin and what looked like a huge slice of chicken pie, of which I left a single raisin. L kindly bought me lunch. Thence to Sahadi, for tea and other useful or amusing things, enough of same that I came home instead of going to the gym.

must be some other redbird....

A friend of mine was writing about her reactions to Yom Kippur. It's a locked post, so I won't point you there or quote her by name, but it invokes me, by LJ username, as someone who is probably upset that she doesn't fast or otherwise observe the holiday.

My reaction was, basically, "Who, me? Me, who has a nice chicken tikka coming from the Indian takeout place?" I posted that; she hasn't responded.

It really feels as though she's remembering a conversation with someone else, and putting my name on it. I'm a pinko New York humanist; around here "Jewish" is part of an ethnicity.

must be some other redbird....

A friend of mine was writing about her reactions to Yom Kippur. It's a locked post, so I won't point you there or quote her by name, but it invokes me, by LJ username, as someone who is probably upset that she doesn't fast or otherwise observe the holiday.

My reaction was, basically, "Who, me? Me, who has a nice chicken tikka coming from the Indian takeout place?" I posted that; she hasn't responded.

It really feels as though she's remembering a conversation with someone else, and putting my name on it. I'm a pinko New York humanist; around here "Jewish" is part of an ethnicity.