Do you remember that movie?
The one with Tom Hanks and Shelley Long?
The one where the bathtub falls through the floor and all you see is Tom Hanks from below, looking thorugh the hole in the floor, laughing maniacly, like he’s lost his goddamned mind?
WELCOME TO MY NEW APARTMENT!!!!!!!!!!
If you’ve been wondering where I’ve been, I’ve been moving.
This was my old apt.
This is my new apt.
JOY OF JOYS!
I have been trapped in two weeks of the purest form of hell I can imagine.
I’m SO not kidding.
How do I NOT love my new home? Let me count the ways:
- Our new apartment came with horridly STAIND carpeting. ORANGE AND BLACK STAINS.
- The toilet doesn’t flush
- When you press ‘surface light’ on the microwave (you know, to turn on the light over the range?), it starts COOKING THINGS. That is, to my knowledge, the only way the microwave WILL attempt to cook anything. However, don’t try STOPPING the microwave — none of the other buttons work.
- Although I have a new phone number and Verizon tells me it’s working, none of my phone jacks work.
- Yeah, neither do the cable jacks.
- The garbage disposal sounds like it’s going to take off and fly somewhere. The bonus to this is that it makes the entire KITCHEN vibrate. If I lean up against the counter, it could make disposing of garbage MUCH more interesting.
- The drain stopper of one of the bathroom sinks is permanently keeping the sink from draining. If you were to perhaps not notice this until AFTER you turned on the water, you will have to find a cup to SCOOP THE WATER OUT OF THE SINK.
There is more, but I think you get the idea.
The people at my new complex act very concerned and helpful and tell me they will look into certain things and call me back, but naturally, I never hear from them until three hours LATER when I end up having to call THEM back. I’m their FAVORITE new tenant for SURE. I’m starting to think he has my number on caller ID, because he now almost never answers when I call.
To their credit, the carpetwas replaced, but not until THREE DAYS AFTER I MOVED IN. For those three days, I slept on the couch and couldn’t unpack *anything*, since they had to move it all to actually INSTALL the new carpet. Also to their credit, they fixed the microwave once, but two days later (two days during which we did not OPERATE the microwave), I discovered that it is, indeed, fucked again. Oh, did I mention the door frame of said microwave is all cracked up? Well, it is.
Not only will my haunted microwave not cook anything, but when it DOES, it will likely attempt to kill me with leaking radiation.
My new roomate and I have had it to the point where we’re just numb like, “Oh? There’s a gas leak? That’s nice…”
We’ve considered sending hate mail to the previous tenants. Interestingly enough, the mail of theirs we’ve found is still being forwarded from their LAST address.
So that’s where I’ve been. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen, with my head in the oven.
By the way, Mr. Clean Magic Eraser is the BOMB!