11:00 p.m. last night, I was sleeping peacefully on my couch, listening subconsciously to an episode of Law & Order, when I heard the dripping. Again.

The next half hour was spent placing bowls and buckets at strategic points in my kitchen to catch the downpour coming from the Upstairs kitchen. Again.

Another half hour was spent moving all of my dishes from the flooded cabinet into the dishwasher. Again.

This morning I got a call from my Crazy Landlady's husband, who said he was sending over a plumber. Again.

And then I spent two hours disinfecting my entire kitchen. Again.

The plumber says the problem with the Upstairs drain is really fixed this time. Again.

And now? Now Upstairs is running their dishwasher and I am holding my breath.