thank heaven for little drones

Though I would have realized eventually that something was amiss last night, Drone spared me from sheer moments of confusion as he tried, in vain, to flush my toilet.

"Oh right," he said, "there's a note in your elevator about the water being shut off."

"Really? So that's why the super was mumbling something about water the other day, and why there are construction trucks outside and a big hole in the ground. How long did the note say was it shut off for?"

"It said, 'until further notice.'"

"Fucking awesome."

So until further notice (i.e., when I turn on a faucet and water comes out) my apartment is water-free. This is not a complete tragedy, since I am more than happy to shower in my office's gym locker room with the luscious Barney's-exclusive bath products. It's kind of like showering at summer camp in northern Minnesota, only instead of trudging through the woods to a log cabin, carrying a toiletry caddy and trying to ward off mosquitos, I'm trudging across Central Park to Fifth Avenue, carrying an overstuffed leather tote bag and trying not to step in horse manure. The problem, however, lies in the fact that I drink water pretty much constantly, and therefore I also have to pee pretty much constantly. I suppose I can hang out in the Starbucks around the corner until it's time for bed. And after the egregiously early time that Starbucks always closes? My neighbor does have a lot of large plants out on the terrace...