Taking all bets!

This morning, as feiran and I walked out of the bulding, we noticed the mail box slots had been decimated. This is very much a supervised job, not to worry, and I'd managed to decipher one conversation or another with our super to the point where, a few weeks ago, I'd been told this would be happening--that we would be getting a mailbox upgrade. The building is falling apart on so many levels, so what does the management company do? Play with the mailboxes. Were they perfect? No. Did they work? Yes, actually, which is more than I can say for other things--non-essential items like radiators that leak, the various and sundry electrical problems, and this pole in the bathroom that just keeps degrading no matter that there shouldn't be enough whatever it is that keeps crumbling left at this point.

Ahem: mailboxes, spontaneous upgrade ftw? Not really. On the door there is a notice that, as of today, we will not be receiving mail for three days. These had better be some fucking spectacular, package-accepting, pneumatict-tube delivery mailboxes for that. Except even if they were, I bet they wouldn't make up for the fact that I am fully expecting this to be--due to the general incompetance of the people our management company tends to hire--a much longer job.

So I'm letting you all in on the pool: how many days will we really be without mail? I'm thinking five. There's also the pool on how long do you think it will take for the Super--who doesn't really "get" what is this "work" you speak of that keeps you out of the apartment all day--to give us the new mail keys. That ought to take another week, what with feiran not being at home as much any more.