Every day since I picked up the last of the money she owed me, my landlady calls me.
Hi Safey. This Landlady. I want you call me. I can not open window. You I think open window when you live here. I need you show me how open widow. It very important. Please call me back.
I can't explain how happy these messages make me. I've been saving them. I'm thinking of making them mp3 files and listening to them when I'm having a bad day. Cause guess what, Landlady, your windows are not my problem. I laugh at your windows. I throw imaginary rocks in their general direction. I laugh when the imaginary broken glass tinkles. And then I laugh at the word tinkles. Tinkles.
Oh, I'm never, for the record, calling her back.