Thirty days before he was supposed to move in, Vic found out that his apartment is to be bulldozed in 60 days. One has to look on the bright side: at least he was given 60 days notice. There are much more severe ways in which his landlord could have fucked up. Vic could have woken up one Thursday morning in September, only to look out the window and spot a bulldozer lumbering towards his apartment building.
All I’m saying is that one needs to dramatically lower one’s expectations of others in order to avoid disappointment. My rule of thumb is to think of the worst way in which someone could fuck up, then lower the bar by some fudge factor. I’m still trying to work out the exact value of that fudge factor. As far as I’m concerned, that value is the holy grail of universal happiness, possibly even the answer to the ultimate question of life.