It may be mundane to you, but I’m happy as a clam. The guy who cleans my floor just got back from a three-month vacation in London and Pakistan.
On the one hand, I’m thrilled that he was able to go see his family – it took him forever to be sure he’d get a re-entry visa (I helped), and his boss couldn’t possibly have been happy to see a vacation request for that chunk of time, even if he had accrued it fair and square. So I’m glad that everything worked out for him.
But dammit, I missed him. He always knows what is garbage and what was a pile of papers that I hadn’t finished with. He doesn’t expose the building’s “separate your garbage” policy as the scam I know it is by dumping all the containers into the same trash can in front of my face. He’s friendly. He remembers what I did for the union when they went on strike a few years back. He always has a light for my smoke when I forget matches. He vacuums the other side of the floor first when I’m on a call.
The lady who was filling in for him – well, let’s just say that I’m very, very happy to have my guy back.
There’s my mundane thread for today.
