Telephone call between me and the maintenance office, about 11 am: ``So, I was just calling because I imagine I have to reschedule my 10:00 appointment to have my washing machine looked at.'' You're supposed to have your washing machine repaired?
``Well, that's what I was calling about, that I suppose something came up and I have to reschedule since it's now 11:00.'' Your appointment's at 11:00?
``No, my appointment was at 10:00.'' A pause. Oh.
I know my life includes more than the average number of comedy scenes, and I'm curious whether it's just coincidence or if I'm subconsciously manipulating the things I say to people to set up exchanges like that.
The maintenance office said they'd check on the guy coming to see me, and he showed up a few minutes later, looked at the washer, looked at the examples of a towel and shirt which smell yet of sweat, and said there probably wasn't a real problem. His speculation was that the extremely heavy rains of the past week are why the clothes aren't drying properly, and if I'm just more patient ...
Well. It has been raining very heavily and very long lately -- rains so heavy you can't see across the street, and running all day and night, to the point you want to growl at the sky and shout enough. The drainage ditches around my apartment have been overflowing a few times, and monsoon ditches have been as much as half-filled. In fact, the rains were so heavy that a 17-meter wedge of the sloped landscaping near the National University of Singapore School of Business suddenly gave way, falling down just enough to cascade a bit, and smash the drainage ditches in the area. Structural engineers have set up monitoring gear to safeguard nearby buildings, and to help dry out the ground they've put huge blue tarps over the hill.
Anyway, I got a little indoor wire rack and set out a new load of laundry, where it's air-conditioned and I can keep it away from residual rain, and come morning it'll even have sun again. I still don't like it.
Trivia: Benjamin Franklin sold the original editions of Poor Richard's Almanack (1733) at 3 shillings, 6 pennies to the dozen. Source: Benjamin Franklin: An American Life, Walter Isaacson.
Currently Reading: The Romans, Donald Dudley.