Friday our sink disposal broke. Par usuale, we couldn't get ahold of the landlord or apartment manager. So it remained broken, with water standing in the sink, for twenty-four hours. Once we got past the twenty-four hour mark, mold began growing. It filled the disposal and began creeping up into the sink. By the time Sunday hit, it looked like it was going to take over our entire kitchen. Of course, nobody was about to touch it. So Kat and I stood in the kitchen and poured Comet on it, since we didn't have any straight bleach, and it was the only cleaning product in our kitchen that contained bleach. It killed it. But then we were left with a mucky mess of Comet and food-crud in the sink.

Finally, the maitenance man came. This morning. As I was about to leave. He's been working on the disposal since 10:00am.

I've been re-reading Sacred Journey and Hey Nostradamus!

It seems like I've been getting news of engagements, bridal showers and weddings almost on a weekly basis for several months now. What's with kids my age getting married? At this rate, Elizabeth really will be my only close friend left without a husband or baby attached to the hip. It's ironic, really. When I was sixteenish, everyone in the small, church oriented social circle I moved in was always joking about how I'd be the first to get married, at some insanely young age.

Ha.

I smiled and nodded, but honestly never really believed it.

Not sure what the point of that ramble was. Anyway. The disposal is now fixed and the maitnenance man has left. Now it's my turn to leave and go immerse myself in plaster and patch my new bedroom walls. I'm kind of getting into this renovation thing.