waiting

The refrigerator repairman said he would be here between 1 and 4 p.m. It's almost 3:30. No sign of him.

Meanwhile, the mold continues to spread. I don't know what kind of mold it is, or why it thrives in our wine refrigerator. I have asked people at work and even e-mailed a wine columnist, but no one knew the answer.

I suspect it's the humidity reservoir, and I told the repairman this when I called two weeks ago to set up the appointment. The difference between 75 percent humidity and 80 percent humidity is larger than we think.

It is raining. Again. The doctor thinks I have the kind of sadness that grows worse with bad weather. He orders more medication. He spends more time ordering more medication than he does actually speaking to me.

And here I am, waiting for someone to fix it all.