“…I’m not the kind to use a pencil or rule; I’m handy with love and I’m no fool… Yeah baby, I’m your handyman...”

Now that I’m on my own and am free to cultivate my own vibe in the apartment, I’ve decided to rehang the shroud (glorified mosquito netting) that enclosed my bed before I had to share a bedroom with someone. The rehanging of the shroud, however, involves drilling a hole in the ceiling, and imbedding an anchor, and then placing a hook in said anchor.

I don’t own a drill (though I do have the hooks already), nor am I tall enough for this job, even if I did have this handy piece of equipment—so I e-mailed Gordon and asked if he would do this for me. At the risk of being a cliché, I let him know that I understood if he wasn’t up for it, and that I wanted to invite him to dinner sometime regardless. I stressed that I do not expect him to be at my beck and call for these kinds of tasks.

As a result of a few e-mail exchanges, and a remarkable demonstration of his willingness to go above and beyond to do this for me (one example is that he was going to come to my office tomorrow morning to get the hook so he’d know what kind of anchor to buy). When he realized he’d need to do this for me tonight because of his band practice commitment, he said he’d just bring over a few different types of anchors, and that hopefully we wouldn’t need to go to the hardware store.

It’s not the thought of a free meal that lured him, because he doesn’t even know if he can stay long enough to eat given that he needs some time to paint tonight—but he’s willing to come to my place to drill a hole for me, so I can have the ambience I want in my bedroom.

I just wondered if he would agree to do it sometime. Maybe, if it wasn’t too much trouble….

The honeymoon is over…

Since I last blogged, I was “spoken to” at work about some things that have slipped through the cracks. I don’t want to rehash it all here, and in an effort to be judicious, I have to say that it was not entirely unmerited—but I also think it was shortsighted, and didn’t really take certain “restrictions” into consideration.

With that said, moving on.

I finally wrote Devika a reply to her letter, and I saw two old friends this weekend. Oh, and Sarah got all new furniture for her new place. Life is good, still.