So while I've been puttering about the internet, looking for vegetarian alternatives to chicken salad &c., my DBF has been busy unpacking books, exchanging lamps from one room to another, and fixing doors.
Yes. Fixing doors. The doors. . . dare I say it? *Close* now. The cat will be very confused when he realizes that a closed door will no longer open to the pressure exerted by his delicate gray paws.
Anyway, this repair took metallurgical prowess, a scary appreciation of pliers, and actually scraping wood out of the doorframe. Yes, the apartment fix-it-up-chappies installed doors that not only didn't have working springs, but *couldn't possibly interact with the hole in the door frame, by as much as a few centimeters!*
And now it's better, and I'm smug.
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