I mean, these fuckers are just plain slobs.

I'm not going to get my fool around on.

Tess is hurt. She smooths her shit back together.

I realize that I've violated the punkrock code about fifteen different ways and start doing the maintainance I was born to do.

I get no respect for it, dogged as productive labor is somehow against their collective code, but fuck it.

Deep down, I know it will make amends.

I call the homeowner, let her know its going to take a lot longer to stretch everything into shape than I thought it was going to. Vicki's not happy but glad I'm on the scene and kind of expects this sort of mayhem from the degenerate friends she rents to. Call the wife, tell her that it doesn't look like I'll be home until midmorning.

Hell, its already early morning -- four A.M. I can see across the hills that the day is just starting adn I still have much work to do.