Will my a/c repairman ever forgive me?

After two weeks of unsuccessfully dealing with an overflowing a/c drip pan, which resulted in the loss of a big chunk of my kitchen ceiling, my date with the a/c repairman has finally arrived.

I'm dreadfully embarrassed at the state of Chez Melina. My new lodger can't seem to put anything away, so the place looks like a yard sale explosion. I can't even clean the floor properly as there's not enough of it visible. Suddenly I'm desperate to sell this shack and find a nice, secluded, cheap condo somewhere. With the exception of a cat or two (two max), I want to be alone.

Well, not all the time. Earlier today, I finally mustered the spine to ask DD about our relationship. Turns out it's all cool. I'd forgotten he's headed out of town in a few days to photograph a sailing event, and he's working nonstop to get through the latest projects at the day job.

He was, however, grateful for my concern and had been feeling occasional twinges of guilt about my nose collision. So bringing it up turned out to be a good idea. I felt kind of like a magician's assistant - even if you're not in charge, sometimes you have to chase down the rabbit and return it to your boss.