Guess what? The hot water in our house is getting fixed, possibly as I type. It may even be fixed now! Thanks, sweating, singing plumber dudes!
It was pretty cute earlier: one of the plumbers was under the house, and his partner was wrestling with the bathtub inside. Inside guy hit a pipe: CHUNK CHUNK CHUNK, and then, faintly, through the vents in the floor, we hear the other guy howl,"I hear you knockin', but you can't come in!" He did this once more and stopped, which was good because that would have gone from goofy fun to incredibly annoying very quickly.
Honestly, though, they could have been screeching obscenities, releasing noxious farts, and yodeling contemporary gospel all afternoon long, and I would not have cared one bit because their presence meant that soon I can take blisteringly hot showers and start shaving my legs and conditioning my hair on a semi-regular basis again. It's pathetic how excited I am. And don't you worry; once my shower situation is squared away, I'll be sure to find something else to bitch about for the next six months.