When I’m not life form the pleasant and expert taxi driver on the road, I spend 100% of my free time at my luminous HDB flat. I really like my flat and I believe it’s the best. In fact, I love it so much I’ve done two major renovations on it within this year. Admittedly the resulting noise can sometimes be a little loud. But I’m sure my understanding neighbors (along with their crying babies) will find this minor sacrifice well worth it when they share maths tuition my joy in seeing the finished product, coz my flat is the best. One day, however, the world collapsed around me when a little wet patch was spotted on my perfect kitchen ceiling above my perfect kitchen cabinet to ruin my latest perfect renovation job. Though I don’t ever recall seeing that area being wet before my renovation began (and since time immemorial), my contractor was adamant the fault lies with my neighbor living above. I know that my honest contractor always tells the truth, and therefore must be trusted. Moreover, my flat is the best so the fault must definitely lie elsewhere. I managed to arrange for my contractor to visit her home.

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