March 15, 2004
Meathead was yelling on the phone last night for two hours. I did my best to block it out and not overhear, but these walls are far too thin for his crass vocalizations. I think he was talking to a phone service provider. Initially I thought he was yelling at his wife, what with the usual "f*$@ you" and the "shut up" and words about money.

Meathead is the loser that lives next door and verbally abuses his wife and two small children. I imagine he physically abuses them as well. This partucular shouting episode was occurring after the midnight hour. I was still up making muscle flash cards in preparation for my first anatomy and physiology test.

On a much different note, three nice things have happened to me today and it's not even noon yet.
1) Bright sunshine and chirping birds awoke me at 6:10. I was astounded that the sun was up so early. The long dark days of winter are fading fast.

2) I nipped out to Kim, the dodgy corner store, to get some milk so I could offer the washing machine repair guy a proper cupppa, if he actually turned up. I shoved a tenner in my pocket rather than taking my entire wallet. Inside the store, I found, to my disbelief, tortillas! There was only one pack. I felt them and they were still soft. Gotta have those!! Oh yes, and some honey and OJ. And there's that limescale remover I've been searching for. And TP and washing up liquid. That'll do it. As Mr. Kim was ringing it all up, I suddenly realized I only had the tenner in my pocket. Might not be enough.

Mr. Kim was chattering into his mobile in short, blunt bursts. Holding up the ten pound note, I gave him a grin and tried in my best Korean body language to communicate, "Leave out the OJ if it's more than ten cause this is all I've got". He calculated the total, moved the phone away from his mouth and said, "27". Surely it couldn't be that much...did I mishear him...what sounds similar to 27. I looked at him uncertainly and he said again, "27. 27 short but OK."

"Oh," I smiled. "I'll bring the difference right away." And I did.

3) When I made the appointment with Wshing Machine Repair Man Friday, he said he'd be at the flat between 11 and 1 on Monday. Having been through this routine with other London repair men, I was skeptical to put it mildly. He rang the bell at 11:15, was friendly, professional, explained the mechanics to me rather than assuming it would all be too technical, deftly finished the job in 30 minutes, tested his work several times and asked me for a mop so he could clean up. I was flabberghasted. This was so unlike the methods of the unreliable, dishonest, slobby repairmen (and I'm being nice here) that Sharma has referred in the past. This service man was a gem in a dung heap. I thanked him several times for being reliable and punctual. I told him how rare that was. Whilst I meant it as a compliment, I think he found it slightly offensive. In defense of his fellow tradesmen, as he was leaving he said cheerfully, "If it's any consolation, I have about 2 jobs a day where people aren't home or the keys don't fit." Guess it works both ways.