+ The Magic of Murphy

I didn't know when he came in because Murphy didn't even knock when he turned up sometime last weekend. Must have been Saturday night or so. And the door must have been open. Well, the balcony window was certainly open.

Saturday night was good, and the British Open golf was quite absorbing after Friday's one-sidedness. Sunday dawned and, by the time I was up, there wasn't any reason to feel it was going to be a bad day. But then, I didn't know Murphy was hiding inside.

One phone call was enough to leave a bad taste in the mouth; it didn't help any that this was only the latest in a series of small events that were more or less screwed up. In the night, it started to rain and there was a strong gust to go along with it. It had rained a bit on windy Saturday too, and the inset balcony was quite drenched. I had placed a folded piece of washcloth under the glass door, but it wasn't necessary.

Sunday was different. About 20 minutes into the rain, a glance at the glass door, and water was already creeping in. By the time the rags were found and the swabbing begun, the water was kind of flowing in steadily. Some more checking found that four of the windows weren't waterproofed well enough and water was seeping in between the aluminium frame and the cement. At two places, the water was trickling from the sill on the floor.

This is a new, two-month-old apartment, and dammit, it was evident that the work was shoddy as hell. Not that I didn't know it; it was just that now I was getting unbearable proof. So, do I go and scream at the builder tomorrow? How likely is that?

Every little thing needs to be told about half a dozen times under great stress to avoid immediate violence on my part; and after all that, only a complaint to the builder would get even a hole in the switchboard covered with a switch dummy. The tiles are laid badly, the initial specifications and ultimate reality have huge gaps, there is evidence of silliness and bad workmanship all around....

It has been an unrelenting and unwitting battle of attrition to get the apartment livable, and I am already worn thin. Rather than explain or scream, It would be easier now to just take a club and brain people on the spot.

Looking ahead at the coming week, I am filled with such dread I don't even want to think about it.

Murphy is one real &*%^$&^!!# I really don't want to encounter.