So I had to call my old contractors, Sir-Flakes-And-Bakes and his Deadhead cohort, and tell them about the mysterious rag in the plumbing and chewed him out in the nicest, most constructive way possible. Arrrgh. The plumber is coming back to stick a camera in my pipes and show me the goop FOR FREE hey wow now that's entertainment!
I also just got a new renter's/homeowner's insurance policy so my puny tenants can douse the joint with gasoline and smoke while they huff the fumes and i'm covered, baby, for a pretty jaw-droppingly massive amount of dosh. And if my hipster pad in SF burns the hell down, hey well i'll get phat ducats as well. I heart gambling.
...and uh, he called me earlier today, yay yay yay - so to update the neurotic fretting about the stupid phone call last night, I was totally being hypersensitive about it and worried too much, etc. He's awesome, everything is swell, and we talked about underoos and altar boys. We talked for a long time. Might hang out this weekend but he has to work 9-5 saturday and sunday boo, hiss. We'll work something out.
J was really cool and listened to me fret and worry about everything while I had massive insomnianxiety last night, and for that he deserves a SNO-CONE MACHINE. Oh, wait, he already HAS ONE. Ladies, you listening?
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