Clutz Update

My trip to the hand specialist mainly changed one thing... my right arm is now in a cast instead of a brace. I have also been threatened with surgery on my wrist if the cast does not work. I return to the specialist on February 26th and right now it does not bode well for me. My boss does not seem to understand that when the doctor's limited activity list stating that, among activities such as lifting, pulling and pushing over 2 pounds, also includes "grasping," that it might just include writing... right wrist... I am right handed... hmmm.

I limit my time on the computer as well because too much typing aggravates my wrist. Handwriting takes less than 5 minutes before I start getting pains shooting up my arm. I have requested a helper to do the writing required on invoices to note account codes, date, check number, etc., but so far I have not gotten any cooperation. It seems to me that it makes more sense to help me avoid surgery, because if I have to have surgery I will be totally out of commission for awhile and won't even be able to type on the computer. I would only need someone for 1 to 1 1/2 hours 3 days a week max. Go figure.

I guess I am just whining.

Long Day, Long Week

I didn't get out of work until 8:30 PM tonight. It was a long day to end a very long and tedious work week. I have been working on several projects at work and had hoped to finish them all by the end of my day today. No such luck. Monday will be here soon enough.

My mom has been having some difficulty with her medications... taking medicine and poor memory don't work well together. She also has a new prescription that seems to be making her sick. She spent one evening vomiting. It is very hard to be at work and at home and get the phone calls about what is happening with her when I can't drop everything and travel for 2 1/2 hours to be there with her. With my projects at work this week, it was very frustrating!

Mom has a spot in an assisted living community that will be available for her in early November. It is close to my home so it will be easy for me to visit her and take her out once she is moved. It is a beautiful 2 bedroom apartment and big enough for her to take her looms, and baby grand piano... both very important to her... as well as much of the furniture and belongings that she currently has in her home.

So... this weekend I will be helping her go through some of her things and pack up some of the stuff that she doesn't want to keep. I figure that as the things that she doesn't want to keep are removed from the house, the easier it will be when it gets down to the harder choices. Hopefully it will make her move much easier. I still have plenty of boxes and an ample supply of tape to get started. We'll start with sorting through her books...

Speaking of books... I am about to get settled in to read my new Harry Potter book. I just need to grab a nice cold beer from the refrigerator and change from my work clothes into some comfy pajamas. You all have a wonderful weekend!

I Am NOT A Happy Camper!

The major difference between a thing that might go wrong and a thing that cannot possibly go wrong is that when a thing that cannot possibly go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out to be impossible to get at and repair.

Douglas Adams (1952 - 2001), "Mostly Harmless"

Yes, something has gone horribly, terribly wrong. I am not happy. In fact, I am quite definitely pissed!

The computer guy at work has been switching over to a new server and upgrading some of our programs and network. Occasionally the Parish Manager will mention to me that he will be coming in after I leave for the day to do some work on the office computer system. Monday as I was getting ready to leave, she mentioned to me that he would be coming in to work on the system that evening. No big deal, right? I wish that was true.

I had no idea that he would be transferring all of my Excell and Word files over to the newer Microsoft Office program and the new server. EVERY one of my files were messed up! I have literally hundreds and hundreds of hours put into those files... especially the Excell spreadsheets for the financial reports and budget. In fact, I had already put numerous hours into the upcoming budget for this coming fiscal year. Half of my files have totally disappeared. Most of the other half are either so corrupted as to be unrepairable and useless, or have reverted to whatever they looked like in 2003! Computer guy cannot figure out what happened nor can he find my files. NONE of those files were backed up on the old server. Luckily, I have back up copies for the General ledger and Payroll programs on CDs. The settings for my reports were messed up, but I can deal with that easily.

I have older copies of a few of the files on my computer at home. But most of the bigger files I am having to redo from scratch. Had I known that he was transferring files, I would have backed up the important ones to a CD before he tried to transfer them. Some of the other staff members had no idea that he was coming and arrived at work today to find that they could not use their computers... they were told by the Parish Manager that it may be 2 to 3 weeks! I find that hard to believe. I would think that computer guy could get them access in a day or so. Since they didn't know what was being done, they did not back up their files to a CD or disk.

So, many of my upcoming nights at home will be spent rebuilding those Excell files. I don't have time to do my regular work and rebuild the files during my regular workday. Tonight I started working on the quarterly financial report which is 4 legal pages long. I am sooooooooooo delighted.

Cnadles Are Here To Stay

Cnadles was the first one I really noticed. Then it was telelphone followed by utililities or utilties. I guess I have always transposed letters when typing words. And there are words that I consistantly misspell when typing... not because I don't know how to spell them, but because my finger coordination is shot! The thing is that these days, my fingers are not all pointing in the direction they are supposed to be pointing and some of my joints don't move at all. I miss letters entirely or hit the wrong letter or hit the same key with a one-two punch and get a double letter when I only want one.

Arthritis is not a fun thing. I now also have wpords like reat, mab, ir hsve. (translation: words like great, man, or have) Spellcheck is helpful, but then there are words that I mispell correctly... I'm sure you know what I mean. I have had to hone my editorial skills to keep up with my ever-increasing errors. It gets embarassing when I print out a report at work that I cannot edit, or when I leave a comment on someone's blog and skip the previewing option.

Cnadles are candles. One of the things I do at work is to enter the various incomes received during the week. Candle money is usually deposited weekly. At our church, cnadle money is usually deposited weekly. It is sort of a joke now. It is a good thing that I can laugh at myself and a good thing that the Parish Manager and Old Irish Pastor have a good sense of humor!

Old Irish Pastor actually does not approve of the practice of collecting for candles or cnadles. It is a rather archaic custom. Years ago in the Catholic Church people paid for candles to light for their prayer intentions. This money was a significant source of income for the clergy. These days, clergy get salaries, auto allowance, insurance and other benefits. Most of the candle stands are now votive stands with electronic candles because of the hazard that unattended lit candles pose for buildings. The funny thing is that people flock to them the same way. They get upset if their virtual candle does not light!... as if their prayers are no good if the light doesn't light! I am really not trying to make fun of the practice of lighting candles as part of prayer. It is a beautiful symbol. It is just that people seem to get caught up in the candle part instead of the prayer part...

At any rate, it seems that cnadles and candles are here to stay... whether in my writing or in church... at least for my lifetime.

An Irish Tribute and Father Bird-In-Hand

I am copying this little tribute from a plaque that was found at work in honor of our Irish Pastor . It has no author on it or I would give the credit where due. No offense is meant to any ethnic or racial group!

An Irish Tribute

God then made man.

*****

The Italian for music and art,

The French for fine food,

The German for intelligence,

The Swedes for their beauty,

The Jew for religion,

And on and on

Until

He looked at what

He has created

And said,

"This is all very fine but

No one is having any fun.

I guess I'll have to make me

An

Irishman"

***

It is an old plaque and surely reflects some older attitudes. But I think that in my experience, it is correct about the Irish . Now I know that there are some cranky Irish people out there, but as for the Irish clergy... well, more often than not they are a fun-loving group.

*

This does not mean that other nationalities are not also fun. I don't think that Mary is entirely Irish, but I am sure that there are some Irish genes in there somewhere! And believe it or not we have had two Polish priests in residence that have been a hoot and a half. I have mentioned Fr. Ed in a previous post. He speaks several languages and oversees our Hispanic ministry. He spent some years in Peru, so he is quite fluent in Spanish. I'll save some of his stories for another time.

*

A new character I would like to introduce to you is another priest, of Polish descent, which I will refer to on this blog as Fr. Plk, not to be confused with Fr. JP, who is Korean. (we are very culturally diverse!) Fr. Plk came to us to replace Young Father. Young Father was transferred to another parish a couple of months after the horse head incident (see Feb. 16 post), where he stayed for a few months, took a sabbatical (time off) and then left the priesthood. I wonder if we had anything to do with that? I hope not.

*

I have to admit that Fr. Plk could give any Irishman a run for his money. Fr. Plk's main pranks usually seemed to revolve around leaving something is someone's office. We had numerous brick-a-brack that made the rounds to most offices, but his best was a giant blow-up frog that he left on the toilet in the female staff's bathroom. It is a small bathroom... a one seater... so it was quite startling first thing in the morning. I think Mary was the second one to discover it... I'm not sure who the first one was, but I did hear the scream and then the laughter. I was amazed that no one wet their pants in the process.

*

Fr. Plk had a thing about birds. He set up a bird feeder just outside his office window so that he could watch them. I think that he had some idea of getting some wonderful birds to watch. What he got were some very dumb Mourning Doves (they are all very dumb) some pidgeons, sparrows, wrens, an occasional South American Parrot (escapees have started large colonies in Florida), and once in a while he would get a Blue Jay or Cardinal. Mostly what he got were Squirrels. That brings us to Father Bird-In-Hand.

*

One day, after reading some information about birdwatching, Fr. Plk got the idea that he would like to get the birds to a point where they would take birdseed from his hand. Maybe he should have been a Franciscan, or thought he was. Anyway, he procured a lifesize cardboard cut-out of a man, set it up on some sort of post, and proceeded to dress it in some worn-out black cleric shirt and pants... priestly collar included. It even had an extended wooden hand in which to place the bird seed. After a few days, he decided it also needed a hat similar to the one that he would wear sometimes in the cooler weather (in Florida?).

*

Father Bird-In-Hand was placed in the garden area outside of his window towards the center of the garden so that all the little birdies could get used to it. Every week or so he would move it a little closer to his office window. He was certain that this would work. The squirrels loved the easy feed, the Pidgeons and Mourning Doves pooped on the hat, and the smarter birds basically ignored it. As Father Bird-In-Hand got closer to the office window, the bird poop got deeper on the window sill. Irish Pastor indicated that perhaps the bird poop was becoming a bit unsightly, so Fr. Plk added to his list of things to do--the weekly scrubbing of the building and sill outside of his office window.

*

If you have read my previous stories about Irish Pastor and Mary, you might have an idea of the teasing that Fr. Plk got from our staff regarding his failed attempts to train the birds in the garden... on a daily basis. Watching him dressed in his clerics scrubbing the building down was a sight to be seen. Someone on staff even gave him a Tweety Bird Chia Pet to place on the window sill. It grew grass-like hair which he hoped would attract the birds. This all went on for months! The latest cantankerous maintenance man, let's call him Carl (Joe retired and died), constanly complained about the mess and the sprouting uneaten seeds, the yard men were not happy about having to mow around it and weed the growing uneaten seeds, the bird poop was building up faster than Fr. Plk could get it cleaned off, the cleaning lady was constanly knocking over and spilling the large bags of bird seed in Fr. Plk's office, and the staff was constanly in Fr. Plk's office to harass him about the whole scenario and point out to him that his bird seed had bugs in it.

*

This definitely provided much amusement to the staff and was the source of many jokes, but perhaps the happiest was the assistant mainenance man. We will call him Bob. Bob was known for his love of the birds and squirrels in the gardens. Now he didn't try to hand feed the birds as Fr. Plk was attempting, but he did spend a lot of the day talking to the birds and squirrels (when he was not carrying on a conversation with himself). He could even hand feed the squirrels. Bob is a bit slow mentally, and in many ways is quite child-like. He can often be heard carrying on a conversation with himself, which he may or may not have started with an actual person. The birds and squirrels seemed to like him and were used to having him around the garden. The birds usually did not fly away if he came close. Picture this comparison. Bob, simple, happily strolling about the garden instead of doing his work and talking to the creatures there, and Fr Plk., intelligent, well-educated, and totally frustrated at the failure of Father Bird-In-Hand and Bob's success.

*

Finally one day, Fr. Plk gave up. I am not sure exactly how it happened, but in the end Fr. Bird-In-Hand was a bust. Fr. Bird-In-Hand was seated in various offices for awhile, and on occasion could be sitting in Fr. Plk's office chair on Fr. Plk's day off. And then one day he was gone... Fr. Bird-In-Hand not Fr. Plk. It was sad. But Fr. Plk was still cleaning bird poop off the building because the original bird feeder was back.

*

As usually happens, Fr. Plk was to be transferred to another parish. This is the way it goes for young priests. They get moved around a lot so they get the experience to become a pastor. On one of the mornings of his last week in our parish, I opened my office and clicked on the light. I then dropped everything I had in my arms and broke into hysterical fits of laughter... I believe that is what they usually call it when you laugh so hard and long that you are sure you are going to wet your pants or stop breathing or both. Anyway, there in the "guest chair" in my office was Fr. Bird-In-Hand, hat on his head, a stuffed animal that was supposed to represent the squirrels attatched to his pants covering the cardboard leg, and a goofy almost life-sized photograph of Fr. Plk's face where Fr. Bird-In-Hand's face would be. I had just caught my breath when Fr. Plk jumped into my office with a yell. Yes, I was startled. He proceeded to explain to me that he was leaving something with the people on staff that he was closest to (almost everyone!), and he had decided that the most appropriate thing to leave me was Fr. Bird-In-Hand. I wasn't quite sure how to take that.

*

Fr. Bird-In-Hand bounced around for awhile. He even made a stop one morning in the female staff's bathroom. I still have the photograph of Fr. Plk's face. Mary has the stuffed-animal-that-was-supposed-to-be-a-squirrel-but-actually-looks-like-a-beaver in her office. The cardboard figure with hat and clothes was eventually transferred to David's (the Youth Minister) office chair. From there the clothes made it to the box of costumes and the other remnants of Fr. Bird-In-Hand were no longer among us. So sad.

*

If you were to come by our parish now, and you were to wander into the garden area, you would however be able to see the tribute to Fr. Plk's time amongst us. There in the corner of the garden is Fr. Plk's bird feeder. It is by a different office window now, but on any given day you may see Bob carefully filling it with bird seed as he talks to someone or something... perhaps Fr. Plk , Fr. Bird-In-Hand, or himself. And you just might see one of his squirrels nearby waiting for a snack.

***

*

***

There once was priest who loved birds

The squirrels he attracted in herds

When the birds did arrive

He thought they would thrive

But alas, all he found were their turds.

They Just Don't Make Them Like Him Anymore

The female staff at work today were treated to lunch at a wonderful Italian restaurant. If you have been following my blog posts, you know that I work at a church. The pastor took the ten of us as a goodbye luncheon for Lynn who is moving on to work with her son in an educational supply store. The pastor is getting ready to retire in a few months, so we did some reminiscing about some of the past pranks and assorted shenanigans that have taken place over the past few years.

Now if you think working at a church would be dull, you are very mistaken. It helps to have a wonderful Irish pastor with a good sense of humor and a Director of Religious Education who just can't help pulling pranks. I will attempt to give you a couple of examples that you will be able to picture in your minds.

OK, here is the cast of characters...

• Director of Religious Education... we'll call her "Mary." It's a Catholic church, so any female over the age of 30 has a 50-50 chance of being named Mary or some form of Mary... like Mary Ann, Mary Ellen, Mary Jane, Mary Lou, Marianne, Maria, etc. Mary is in her late thirties and attractive.
• Young priest in residence... we will call him "Young Father."
• Youth Minister... we will call him "David."
• Rectory housekeeper... we will call her "Marlene."
• Older Irish Pastor... we will call him "Irish Pastor." He will be retiring in June.
• Older Irish Pastor's good buddy who loves a good joke and is always ready to help with a prank or instigate one himself, and is also Irish... we will call him "Fr. Tommy." He is retired and works part-time in the parish.
• Cantankerous Maintenance Man... (do they come any other way?) ... we will call him "Joe."
• Middle-Aged Polish priest... we will call him "Fr. Ed"

Example 1

Mary, who can't help herself, was in the church helping to decorate for an upcoming event. Young Father and David, the Youth Minister, were up in the sanctuary discussing some of the details of the event. Mary had a brilliant idea.

Deciding to take a break from decorating, Mary started to walk up the center aisle of the church towards the Sanctuary. She carried with her a long garland which she had yet to hang in the church. That is when it happened. It just popped into her head without warning. She had a vision of a Dr. Seuss book. Some of you may be familiar with one of his books about someone who wished they had duck feet. The wishes go on to include other body part exchanges including a monkey tail. Are you getting the picture?...Garland and monkey tail?

As Mary proceeded up the aisle towards Young Father and David, she proceeded to lift up the back of her dress and tuck one end of the garland into her underwear. When the garland, now a monkey tail, was secure, she put her dress back into place and continued up the aisle. Her backside was away from the sanctuary so that her exposed underwear could not have been seen from the Sanctuary. As she approached the steps to go up into the sanctuary, Mary tossed her new tail at Young Father and David. She noticed that David was doing his best to stifle his laughter. A glance at Young Father, however, showed a different look. He was almost stone faced, but Mary could tell that Young Father was not happy.

Mary said a few more words and then turned to go back to decorating since Young Father was certainly not appreciating her antics. As she turned around the look on her face turned to one of horror. Near the back of the church in a pew was an elderly man praying. She turned back to David and Young Father, who now had the glimmer of a smile on his face, and asked in a hushed voice if the man had been there the whole time. Affirmation of the elderly man's presence the entire time was given by David, who was now really, really trying to stifle his laughter, as well as by Young Father, who was now almost grinning. Realizing that the elderly man was probably witness to her stuffing the garland into her underwear, Mary did her best, as discreetly as was possile, to remove her monkey tail from her underwear.

Mary knew what she had to do. She walked back down the aisle of the church, being careful not to look at the elderly man, and went out the door of the church. She then walked over to the administration building. Irish Pastor was in his office there. Mary knew that Irish Pastor might get a complaint from the elderly man regarding her exposing herself in church, and it was her responsibility to warn Irish Pastor of that possibility. It would not do to have him taken off guard.

As meekly as she could, Mary stepped into Irish Pastor's office. She did her best to explain her actions and the presence of the elderly man. Irish Pastor sat quietly and listened to what she had to say. Occasionally, he would nod his head. When Mary was done, Irish Pastor sat quietly for a few more moments. He then said, " Well, Mary, maybe now he will come to church more often."

Example 2

Mary, who can't help herself, had another brilliant idea. She had brought to work a child's broken stick horse to see if Joe, the cantankerous maintenance man, could repair it for her. After a few weeks, Mary realized that Joe had no intention of fixing this horse. So now she had a prop. A prop and time on her hands can be a dangerous thing when Mary is involved!

Young Father had been a bit annoying of late. He was going through a stage where he was a little too filled with his own self-importance. This was not to be. We are a fun-loving staff and no one gets away with things like that for long without paying the consequences. Who else to to take on this important mission of instilling priestly humility and bringing back Young Father's sense of humor, but Mary!

Enter the prop... the broken stick horse. Now if you ever saw the Godfather movies, you might remember that a horse's head has some special significance. Mary now had a useless horse head looking for a use. Along came the other chief prankster in the parish Fr. Tommy. Fr. Tommy is known for his visits to Ireland to recharge the Blarney Stone, so he was the perfect co-conspirator for Mary's caper. It took little convincing to get Fr. Tommy to agree to sneak the horse head into Young Father's room and put it under the covers in his bed that evening while Young Father was not there. He couldn't resist this opportunity to harass Young Father who fiercely protected his privacy.

When Mary arrived home later that evening, the message light on her phone was blinking indicating a message. She picked up the phone and listened to the message from her co-conspirator... in serious and hushed tones came... "The deed has been done." Click. Mary went to bed that night thinking she had just scored a great prank and couldn't wait for all of the laughter the next day.

The next morning when Mary arrived at work, she did not find laughter. What she found was a hysterical housekeeper, Marlene, trying to tell one of the priests, Fr. Ed, that she was not responsible for what had happened. The accents were flying. Fr. Ed, being Polish, was trying to make sense out of what Marlene, being Puerto Rican, was saying. Now both of them speak Spanish, but in her excitement, Marlene was trying to do her best in English. Enter Mary.

Now Mary figured out fairly quickly that her prank had backfired, but her first concern was to get Marlene to lower her voice and pronounce her words correctly. Parishioners stopping through the office were wondering what on earth was going on. It seems that Young Father had been accusing first Fr. Ed, and then Marlene of putting the horse head under the covers in his bed. Young Father was angry. Marlene was loudly exclaiming, "I no put de head of de hore in de bed! I no put de hore in de bed!" Fr. Ed was also being adamant about not being responsible. And Mary was trying to explain to Marlene that the word was pronouced "horsssse" and not "hore."

Once again, Mary knew that she would have to hang her head, apologize to Young Father, and when Irish Pastor returned from his trip, meekly step into his office. She, once again, would have to explain what she had done, and warn him that there may be some parishioners indignantly complaining about a whore being in the rectory while he was gone.

When Irish Pastor returned from his trip, Mary attempted her best meek and humble posture, and walked into Irish Pastor's office to explain herself. Fr. Tommy was also there discussing the latest sports news from Ireland appearing on Irish Pastor's computer screen. Fr. Tommy knew what was up and did not say a word. Once again, Irish Pastor sat quietly and on occasion nodded his head. When she was through, Irish Pastor sat quietly for a few moments. "Now Mary, you know, at times you probably should think before you do these things." After a few more calm words, he dismissed her from his office. Seconds after the door was closed, the dam broke and very loud gufaws could be heard coming from the two old Irish chums inside Irish Pastor's office.

They just don't make them like that any more! We are all hopeful that Irish Pastor's replacement will not be too much of a shock to our systems. Mary, especially, hopes that.

Lip Balm, Kitty Kisses, 1099s, Typewriters, and Carbon Paper--Not Necessarily In That Order

Yesterday was a very long day. Once a year I use two things--a typewriter and carbon paper. I hate both. Even more, I hate using them to type 1099s which I also experience only once a year. But it IS January, and it IS the law after all. So dutifully I got all my info together earlier in the month and yesterday was the big day.

Why you ask, in this age of computers is anyone still using a typewriter much less carbon paper?!? Some of you may even be asking "WHAT is carbon paper?" Well, I don't feel it necessary to educate you on this tonight. Go look it up in an encyclopedia... errr... on your encyclopedia on line. They may have pictures and an explanation there. I will tell you though, no explanation can take the place of experiencing carbon paper rubbings on your hands and clothing first hand. It's just one of those things.

You see, my computer program has not been set up to handle doing 1099's correctly. This is a situation which I have finally figured out how to remedy. This time next year, I will be smiling because I will be doing the 1099s using the updated computer program. I will buy a bottle of champagne to celebrate the occasion next year. I am sure that I will be able to find some co-workers to help me celebrate.

At least I can now do my W2s on the computer. In all fairness to typewriters, they still do have some uses for which a computer cannot compete. However, those uses should become obsolete and that would solve the problem and make a lot of people (me especially) happier and less stressed. I am way too used to typing on a computer keyboard...switching to an old typewriter once a year just doesn't work...especially because you cannot make any mistakes with carbon paper on those government forms!

So back to my long day yesterday... During the earlier part of the day I finished preparing the biweekly, semimonthly, and monthly payrolls. Once everyone actually turned in their time sheets this wasn't too difficult. I even called in the tax deposit early for next Monday. I listened to the maintenance man. I sorted through numerous receipts that various people had left on my desk... some with a notation of who they were from and what they were for... and some not. I answered several telephone messages... very pleasantly, I might add. I listened to the maintenance man. I processed numerous bills, placed a call to California because someone had mistakenly ordered 500 copies of something instead of the customary 50 (which lasts 2 years), and processed various incoming payments. I looked at my piles of filing to be done and decided to leave that for another day (maybe another year?) I stopped for a cup of tea. I made some necessary photocopies, put postage on the outgoing bill payments, listened to the assistant maintenance man, listened to the cook, listened to my boss ("mmmm this is soooo good"), took several calls on my cell phone while unsuccessfully balancing various pertinent papers in my lap, listened to another co-worker while picking up the papers I had spilled all over the floor, and after running an important errand to another building (getting a soda from the soda machine to fortify myself) borrowed the keys to my office from my boss since I had locked my office door with the keys still on my desk. After my love affair with the typewriter and carbon paper, I stuffed all of the W2s and 1099s into their respective envelopes. Sometime during the day I ate lunch (including a very yummy baked apple). Did I mention that I listened to the maintenance man? By the time I was done it was going on 8 p.m., and I was exhausted.

Ok, so I finally got home. I was too tired to write in my own blog, but I did take the time to peruse some that I like to read. I checked my own blog for comments, looked to see who had visited my site, and fixed myself a wonderful cup of hot chocolate. I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed. On my way to the bedroom I stopped and picked up my Burt's Bees Beeswax Lip Balm (great stuff) to put on my slightly chapped lips. After applying the lip balm, I turned on the TV in the bedroom, climbed into bed and settled in to watch the news. No sooner had I gotten comfortable and set the timer on the TV then along came the resident Siamese, Koko. After pawing the covers and taking about 5 minutes to settle down... just about the time I was starting to doze off, Koko discovered the lip balm and proceeded to lick it off my lips. Coming unexpectedly, it was quite a surprising sensation. I have seen what my cats eat. There was still a slight aroma of his last meal emanating from his mouth. I groaned, rolled over, grabbed a slurp of water from the bottle next to the bed, and closed my eyes to try to drift off to sleep while wondering if there was any hope that the maintenance man might just possibly have the next day off.