Lisa can't stand this place. Yesterday was pretty much the last straw (after the plumbing, condo nazis, the smoking neighbors, the cutting down of the tree in the ocean view courtyard, the elevator repairs that are interminable [and now cutting off any path to the parking lot that doesn't lead through the grass which is so dewy in the mornings that her shoes are soaked by the time we get to the asphalt (making the first few hours of school oh so pleasant)], and the closing of the still-locked-off-and-closed [but now filled] pool): they removed the external shower from near the beach gate. So they want us NOT to rinse beach sand down into the shower and washing machine, but they removed our outdoor hose and shower used for that purpose.
Great.
Lisa voiced her hate and frustration last night.
And so this morning, in parody of Sonnet XLIII by (and with apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning):
Sonnet SSIII (SewerSide3)
How do I HATE thee? Let me count the ways.
I HATE thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when sniffing out of scent
For the ends of Backflow and raw Sewage.
I HATE thee for the removal of walkways
Around the elevator repair blight.
I HATE thee for cutting trees with my rent,
And for killing the show'r at condo's edge.
I HATE thee with a passion of a fool
Who in summer's heat just wanted a pool.
I HATE thee with a HATE seeming to grow
With my lost home, --- I HATE thee with seething
Despising of this condo life! --- and so,
I'll but love thee only after leaving.
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