Bad news: My job continues to suck as apparently our building is possessed by a poltergeist and whenever new tenants move in, it causes bad things to happen to the plumbing in order assert its displeasure. Last year the pipes in apartment #3 exploded. Becky, who lived in that unit and now moved up a floor, is now our building manager while I stayed on as assistant and today, on the first day of class, a toilet exploded (don't ask me how) in unit #303 and flooded all the way down to the basement - including Becky's room. That's four floors. Becky said that her walls looked like they were crying.
Which made me think of this:
Moment of interest is at 1:39 - "Okay, guys, seriously; I don't want to be here alone when the walls start to bleed." I feel you, Johan Hill. I feel you.
I was not part of this debacle today as I was in class, but I was debriefed later. And our worst nightmare has occurred. Somehow, it's far less scary than I thought it was going to be. Maybe because I've forced myself not to care about this building anymore, no matter how cool it could be, because this is the sort of place that breaks your heart and steals your sold. Curse you, brownstones, for having so much potential but the worst plumbing known to mankind!
But enough about possessed 1940s hotels turned apartments. On to more important things at hand. A few months ago, I found this post on Tumblr:
Instead of sympathizing like a normal human being for these two people who accidentally sent non-class related things to their professors, I instead ended up laughing uproariously at this. Because there was a very good chance that I would be studying fandoms for my senior project and that, in the name of science (of course, because that legitimizes everything :P), I could be sending Sherlock fanfiction to my professor.
And in fact, officially beginning tomorrow, I will be embarking on a directed study focusing on rhetoric and identity, specifically in the fandom of Sherlock Holmes. No, seriously; I am. Only in Cultural Studies could I get by with studying fandoms, have my professor think it's brilliant, and prove that college can both be fun and educational.
But mostly the only purpose this post serves is for me to textually do what Christopher Eccleston is doing in that gif. And to keep from thinking about my apartment building looking like this:
And instead, ponder the possibility of this:
In the words of Sherlock Holmes, "The game's afoot, Watson!"