Billy woke to sounds of plastic beating in the wind outside his window. The workman left it to cover the brick work that had yet to be finished. The ring of tape around the windowsill didn't hold and he wondered how much rain water would get in. He'd need a stick to lean out the window on the 8th floor and try and secure it but he thought not.
It used to be he was gung-ho to fix up other peoples sloppy work. Not today, he thought. Must be a paradigm shift. Was he slightly depressed at the thought of living in this run-down apartment and that he had no control over the slow decay? Generally speaking living at The Gentry Apartments had been frustrating. Screw it, he thought. The building was poorly constructed. It needed new windows, insulation, waterproofing, a new roof and new elevators. Owners were unwilling to pay so he resigned himself to the status quo. Not depression he ruminated. If he recognized the futility of wishing things could be different then that didn't qualify as depression. Yet if he didn't engage himself in some thing it would be.
Besides, his stomach hurt from eating too much food last night and he was thinking about not going to work today because the school didn't call. What would it be? A rainy day at home thinking about a paradigm shift. Better go workout.
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