My so-called office in Brain Tumor Hall

Oh, the saga of foundation repairs in Brain Tumor Hall continues.

Right now, at 4:57 pm, there are six construction workers and three frowning engineers standing under my window, staring at the wall below my office.  The wall in which they've already cut a giant hole through which to pass steel I-beams for the construction project, and in which they later plan to install windows for the Classics department.

Here are just a few snippets of the conversation these people are having under my window:

"See?  But that's where the plate's supposed to go."
"Is it?"
"Well, the beam comes to an end right here and our plans show it's bolted to the plate there."

"What's that?"
"Oh, we'll just resurface that when we're done."

"Has it shifted since yesterday?"
"Not that we can tell."
"Have you measured it?"
"Against what?"

"Is that a problem?"
"Is what a problem?"
"That."

Oh, look, it's time for me to run away.