When I got home from Massachusetts on Tuesday there was a note on my door, from my landlord. It announced that on Wed-Thursday the repair aces, AKA the Gang that Couldn't Shoot Straight, would be replacing the patio doors and the bedroom windows in my front bedroom. They asked that I move anything in that bedroom at least 3 feet from windows, so I did. I moved everything into the Living Room.
When I got home Wednesday afternoon, they'd done nothing on the patio door, nothing in the front bedroom. They had, however, replaced all the windows in my Living Room.
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