Divine retribution for complaining

I've been hit with divine retribution for my complaining over things not being open when I want them to be. I went to the pool for my lunchtime swim after a late morning run today, and found it closed. While standing in front of the large glass doors, blinking in disbelief, a few workman came out and confirmed that 'oui, c'est ferme' (yes, it's closed).

Me (an octave higher than my normal voice): Ferme! Jusqu'a quand? (Closed! Till when?)

Workman 1: Jusqu'en Octobre (Till October)

Me (an octave higher still): Octobre!! Mais pourquoi? (October! But why?)

Workman 2: Nous faisons beaucoup de travaille a l'interior (We are doing a lot of work on the interior)

Workman 1 to Workman 2: C'est midi, allons-y pour le dejeuner (It's lunchtime, let's go have lunch.)

I thought about running after them to ask if they might have it finished sooner if they didn't take two hour lunches every day, but thought better of it. I also restrained myself from beating on the doors with my swim paddles, throwing my water bottle through one of the large glass windows, and writing an angry letter to management asking them why they sold me a swim pass two weeks ago if they were planning on closing for six months. I've since come home and risen above it all in a Zenlike manner through the meditative act of chopping up vegetables and then beating the life out of some unsuspecting nuts for a roasted fennel and walnut soup (a definite candidate for recipe of the month). I shall resume my swimming schedule by making the very inconvenient trip into Lausanne tomorrow to jostle with the city folks for lane space. Looking forward to that, but am not going to complain...