The water was back on in my apartment when I got home yesterday, though it's still kind of wonky. At least I don't feel quite so Amish.

From the looks of things, the other tenants were having problems with it all weekend. There was a sign in the lobby to the effect of "Dear toilet repairman: please come back up to #305, ours is still broken," along with about ten "Ours too" messages.

The lobby of my building is an interesting place. Putting up signs in the lobby is the chief form of communication among the tenants (with the exception of the bubbly girl who says hi to everyone). It's like a really low-tech version of an Internet message board. There's the guy who smugly corrects the spelling and punctuation on the rental office's official memos, and the guy who posts nice color printouts with helpful tips (like how to get the intercom to work, and how to get your toilet to flush).

See, that's where the Internet has failed. It can bring together people from across the world, united by their love for, say, tadpoles, but it can't get people living in the same building to communicate like good ol' pen and paper.