The landlady just came through with another workman. She gave us 21 hours of notice, which is not quite the required 24-48. Inasmuch as she was previously texting us the morning of, when both Jazmin and I worked swing/night shift, we consider this an improvement.

This woke me up five hours before I'm normally conscious. I lose probably 5-10 IQ points and a good 5-10% of my verbal filter for every hour of sleep I'm shorted. Given where I start out, this still leaves me dangerously intelligent, and now also with no ability to moderate what comes out of my mouth. I am lucky if it's both in English and not utterly, creatively profane.

Since Dudebro moved out, Jazmin and I have been finding the smoke detectors in random places. He smoked a variety of things and was too goddamn lazy to go downstairs to do it, so he just yanked all the ones in the apartment down and took the batteries out. The landlady was understandably unhappy about this. She asked me if we knew whether any of the alarms were still functioning at all anymore.

I stood there, swaying gently with my eyes at half-mast, and said -- and I quote -- "I don't know. We don't set things on fire."

I am fucking cranky when you get me up early.


  1. Except that one time Jazmin and I totally started a fire trying to cook.


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