Water Theme

My cubby-hole of an office has one window, which looks out into the hall, the main hall. Probably 700 of the 800 people who work in this building pass by my office in the morning and at the end of the day since the main entrance is just past my office.
Today as I was walking back from the cafeteria with my lunch, an older gentleman asked, “Goin’ back into the fishbowl?” And that’s exactly what it’s like, like I work in a fishbowl, and anyone can look in on me. I do have blinds I can draw, but I feel so closed off when they’re down, so they’re up most of the time.
So I’m in a waterless fishbowl while at work—and speaking of water…

…there was none at the house this morning. Thank goodness I didn’t work out and get all sweaty like I do most mornings. I woke Mark up, and he checked to make sure the basement wasn’t flooded. After he learned everything was OK there, he called Cincinnati Water Works. This was around 6:30 a.m. The person he spoke with said the problem was with 701, our next door neighbors.
I just got off the phone with Mark and he said a crew didn’t show up until 10 a.m. to fix the problem, and they broke for lunch at 11 a.m. At the end of our phone conversation he looked out and said, “There’s nobody out there. It’s obvious they’re getting paid by the hour.”
I was planning to go to yoga tonight, which is why I didn’t work out this morning, but if I can’t get a shower at home, I don’t want to go to yoga. The only time I sweat more than when I do yoga is when I pull weeds on a 100 degree day. Ashtanga yoga really takes it out of me. I'm visiting a friend in Columbus Thursday night. Can I wait that long for a shower? Mark doubts it. I do too.