learning about my apartment the hard way

This morning I found out that my apartment has an on-demand water heater. You can guess how: I took a mighty cold shower and called the building manager, P, afterward. Not only that, I failed to notice earlier that the breaker was tripped even though the breaker panel stares you in the face as soon as you enter my kitchen. Resetting the breaker didn't fix things for more than a few seconds - it tripped again - so I have the comfort (?) of knowing that I couldn't have easily avoided that cold shower.

Says P, he had to replace the water heater in the unit next door recently, so he's not too surprised and knows the drill. I feel a little sorry for him, having to manage a needy old building like ours. And he's about twenty years older than the building. I wonder how much longer he can keep doing his job, or worse, what might become of him* - or us tenants - if he has to stop. He's been pretty great.

It was an educational, humbling, and sex drive-squelching morning.



*I'm pretty sure he's OK money-wise. He used to (?) own the building, at least partly, and his daughter S still does, at least partly. Remember that P's late son B, another sweet man, used to live in the unit next to mine, coincidentally the same one that lost its water heater.