Sometimes you just get those
days weeks when everything goes wrong. Two weeks ago I was on my way home from work and as I was waiting in line at the train station taxi stand I received a call. There had been some trouble in our bedroom (not the kind you’re thinking of). Part of the ceiling had fallen down onto our bed. I was told not to worry and some pictures were on its way. Luckily my phone died before I got into the taxi as it would have been a stressful ride otherwise.
The next week and a half it was a coming and going of ‘experts’, painters, drillers, cleaners, and lots of curious bystanders. Our kind landlord, at the mercy of the management company, brought us wine and cognac for the inconvenience of it all.
The problem turned out to be a leaking pipe from the water pump which, since we live on the top floor, is located directly above our bedroom. The solution was quickly thought up and the next morning about 20 holes were drilled into the ceiling and subsequently stuffed with chemical things. This was to stop the water coming into our bedroom. And it did….at the bit they patched up. With the pipe still leaking (because why would you start at the source), the water soon found a different route into our bedroom. Another round of drilling, stuffing, plastering, sanding and painting awaited us. Then I lost my cool (a little bit).
They stepped it up a notch. The management company finally succeeded to get approval at the highest rank so the water pump repair could start. The water stopped leaking, the ceiling looks on the mend, but I’m still not sure how they did it. The necessary turning off of the whole building’s water supply never materialized.
Today the air conditioning unit in the guest bedroom is leaking water. The pillows are soaked, the room temperature has soared, but hey at least we’re not guests…