Amazingly enough, the Verizon repairman did actually show up this afternoon. Unfortunately, the problem he diagnosed – a broken wall jack – was one he had come completely unprepared to fix. But, he assured me, he could be back with the requisite equipment by late this week – early next week at the latest.

Unwilling to wait, and dubious that he would make even that lengthy time frame, I ventured to the local hardware store, picked up an RJ-11 jack, and installed the damn thing myself. And it worked. Granted, it wasn’t rocket science. But it was the first repair project I’ve pulled off in this apartment (beyond assembling furniture and changing light bulbs), and I was hit by a sort of pride of ownership (or, more accurately, rentership). I now have a stake in the place. I’ve pried a chunk out of the wall, messed around with the wires contained therein, and reassembled the whole deal as good as new (more or less). Look out Bob Vila; there’s a new do-it-yourself guru in town.