Probably the best thing I've ever penned

I'm waiting for the repair guy to show up and he's already forty minutes late. I don't dare shower because I might miss him and because it would be a very cold  shower. On Saturday our hot water heater went kaput  and we've  been straight up pioneering it since. Sure we still have electricity and heat and easy transportation,  but it took lots of water boiling to warm up  one toddler's bath. This and the relentlessly chilly Colorado weather has caused me to melodramatically throw my arms in the air and say "I need a vacation!" which I realize is something only the over-privileged say. Luckily for me and my entitled desires, tomorrow we're headed to a Morley family vacay in sunny Palm Desert where I plan on taking lots of naps. If you're a burglar, we are leaving our giant, trained-to-kill pit bulls in the apartment so don't even think about it. If you're anyone else, I'll try not to Instagram too many pictures of my feet on a beach chair. No promises though.

Mr. Repair is now 49 minutes tardy and I need to go to the bathroom.

Two internet articles and 14 minutes later...he's still not here. Are there other things I could/should be doing? yes. Am I using this wait time as an excuse to just sit and internet for a while while Ivy naps? Okay fine. Am I about to crack open my second Diet Coke of the day? Absolutely.
Good news: I put on deodorant. I'm  still holding out for the promise of a hot shower, but it feels like common courtesy to not reek of body odor when a repair man visits.
I just spilled Diet Coke on the couch and only sort of cleaned it up because it's time to burn  this couch cover anyway. Seriously, white? What was I thinking? That my child would be the first kid ever to not spill? My couch looks like the kind of couch that I would judge someone else harshly for having.

70 minutes late.

Oh, here's a thing. Ivy threw her first temper tantrum. For about three minutes I was successful in ignoring her screaming, toy throwing and hand grabbing, but she eventually hit a  dangers decibel level  and I cracked and gave in  to her demands (to be let out on the balcony in forty degree weather wearing only a diaper). Yes, she won the battle. But I learned some things. I've rethought strategy, and she has definitely not won the war.

80 minutes.

I finally went to the bathroom. Hey, here's another thing. We're going back to DC this summer. And even though DC in the summer is akin to a Biblical plague (heat,  cicadas), we're thrilled to be returning.
An hour and thirty five minutes late. I think he forgot.
I called. Joe rescheduled for 1:00. And by rescheduled I mean changed the time and didn't bother to call.

Well, this was fun. I'm off to take a cold shower. If you're a burglar/rapist, don't forget about the two pit bulls. Everyone else, wish me luck.