Slapstick

    Having had the kind of year you wouldn't wish on a serial killer, I'm having a slapstick week. The water heater has been out all week. The landlady was able to get it working again, and then the circuit breaker for the lights and outlets tripped five times. Meanwhile, my brakes are failing and the pocket in my favorite trousers got a big key-swallowing hole. I'm making do with adding brake fluid frequently so far and I stapled the hole. The electrician is supposed to be coming to run some tests today. Circuit breaker hasn't tripped again since 9 or so last night. Maybe slapstick week is over.
    Dad's speech therapist asked me to share my concerns about his care for her to bring up at his care meeting today, so I wrote her out a couple of pages. Hopefully he has a new advocate now; hopefully she'll be more effective. I also turned in his application at the other facility, so plan B is shaping up, too.
    Anne, William and I went to Delhi Palace for late supper. I completely forgot that they don't have buffet on weeknights, but we made out. I asked for medium spicy and found it pretty hot. Anne arrived late; I warned her, but she ordered spicy. It was. Good supper, though.