Good Intentions

Let me tell you, they don’t pay.

I was having a perfectly lazy day, just watching the clouds float past from my horizontal position on the very comfy couch. Did a bit of work, but nothing too strenuous. Read a little, cooked myself some lunch…

Then I decided I’d better do something a little more constructive, so I started cleaning the flat. I’ve spent the past week clucking and tsk tsk-ing over the cleaning lady’s work. I don’t know why this guy pays her weekly wages. I picture her coming round to surf the net for a few hours, then swirl a broom around and call it a day.

Anyway. I cleaned the flat. When I was just about done, I heard a door slam, followed by a mighty crash. There was no way this was going to be good. Nope. Pretty bad, in fact: apparently, the impact of the kitchen door slamming shut had knocked the glass wall lamp in the hallway off the wall and onto the hard tiled floor. Lovely. How to explain this one, I wondered (especially since the landlord left a note about slamming doors).

I didn’t get much time to wonder in the light: all of a sudden, the electricity went off. And when I tried to flip the switch in the fuse box, it wouldn’t budge. Great. Not sure how to handle the situation in this country, I tried asking a few neighbours. I got the same crystal clear answer from all of them: no lo se. Great. So I tried to call my landlord’s brother-in-law, the one emergency number he left for me but, even though it was fully charged, the phone decided not to cooperate. Just great.

So I walked for twenty minutes –uphill– to the nearest phone booth. Nobody uses them anymore, I guess, hence the scarcity. Once there, I used up all the coins I had on me (about 6 euros worth!), just because the phone didn’t believe in giving back change when a number was busy or there was no reply. GRRRREAT. Defeated, I walked back down the hill and went up to my flat. I spent three hours in the dark, trying the fuse every half hour. Finally, at eleven o’clock, I got it working again.

And now, as I sit here savouring the joy of connectivity, I can’t help but conclude that sloth is the only way of life.