The hot, hot story on the OCNN (Over the Cubicle News Network) is the evil black mold taking over the master bedroom of one of the personnellists (not my title, tyvm). It's a new condominium, but she smelled this awful stench from the closet, and upon moving the stacks of as yet unpacked boxes (so I'm not the only one, at least, with stacks of boxes) found not a dead rat or squirel but an incursion black, possibly toxic mold. She got her son in to look at it yesterday evening, and he claimed he could have pushed his hand right through the drywall (well, wet wall really). Going around to the other side of the wall and pulling the washer and dryer out from it revealed giant bubbles of dampness. Yuk. Tell me again why I want to own property?
I realize, of course, that this is probably of even less interest to you than it is to me, and believe me after the hour-on-the-hour reports (does this woman ever phone anyone to talk about work? Don't put me on the witness stand.) I really would have to take quite a bit of trouble to care less than I do. But you know the old saying: shared joy is doubled, shared suffering is ...doubled. Heh.
Not even two fire alarm drills could make today pass any speedier. Clearly someone's molasses has gone missing and is gumming up my gears. Where's a bucket of hot soapy water when you need it?
Well, that at least reminds me that I can kill fifteen minutes or so watering the plants of my coworker who is in Hawaii for vacation - actually at the moment she's probably only somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, but as the engineer said, close enough for what matters.