Basically, the tiles were destroyed and the old tub was taken out and the new tub was put in by 3 p.m. on Wednesday.
It is 11:30 a.m. on Friday, and this is as much of a new tub as I have.
The maintenance guy worked until maybe 5 p.m. on Wednesday (for about two hours after the plumber had removed the old tub and put in the new one). Showed at 11 a.m. yesterday, worked for, I'd say, two hours. Left. Returned between 4 p.m. and 5 p.m. (because he wasn't here when I went grocery shopping, he was when I came back) and worked until 6 p.m. So that's, what? Three hours on Thursday? Four if he showed up the second I left for grocery shopping.
He just dropped off some stuff a second ago, and left again.
He and the superintendant both say how much they want to get the tub and sink installed so I can "get back [my] apartment". But I have severe doubts that the above can be turned into a working tub and sink by the end of today ... so I guess I spend the weekend walking down the floor's hallway with a bag of toiletries and towels draped over my arm, to battle the imaginary psycho killer at the other end of the hall. I am transported to twenty years ago when I lived in university residence. Except the psychos there were corporeal.
Oh, and my entire apartment has a thin layer of tile dust on it. The whole apartment. *sigh*
I know I said it'll be worth it to be able to bathe. And I know it will be. But it would be easier to get through if my humpty dumpty bathroom didn't spend so many hours in the work day just sitting there, broken into pieces and alone, waiting for someone to put it back together again.