Hahahaha. No.
Remember that little stove mishap over the weekend? Well, the landlord got someone out on Tuesday to take a look. Yeah, Tuesday. I know, nice.
At any rate, dude looks it over, replaces the part that blew up and informs me that while that’s fixed, there’s another part that needs to be replaced as it shorted out when the bitch blew. A part which he wasn’t quite sure he’d be able to find due to the age of the stove. While he’s hunting it down, I have three working burners and a functional oven - as far as I know, I haven’t tried to use the oven yet.
Anyhoo, I’ve trekked about a hundred miles around the office today (and in these shoes? ow!) and came back to my desk with my phone chirping and telling me I had VM. VM is sometimes like a little piece of candy to me, a delightful little way to break up the monotony of the day.
Sadly, this was more like a piece of day old dried up white bread. Just an inquiry from the landlord as to whether or not I was satisfied with the work that was done and whether or not he could close the file.
Uh. No.
Apparently, repair dude didn’t bother to call him and inform him of the status. He knows now, believe it.
Heh, although, in my haste, I forgot to mention that the MRS is back.
Arg.