Tuesday, May 16, 2006

To Move Or Not To Move



The first night I came to my apartment to see it after I signed the lease, there was water leaking from the light fixture and onto the floor in the foyer.

Months later during a heavy rain, my apartment sprang about a dozen leaks, with water coming up through the floor in the living room and closet, seeping through the drywall and light switches, even down through the ceiling fan.

I called the fat perv of a maintenance man and he gleefully came down to have a look-see and then asked, "What do you want me to do, hold an umbrella over the roof?"

He was soon replaced by another maintenance guy, who had high hopes of fixing the problem. The funny thing is, I live on the fourth floor of a seven floor building, but neither of my neighbors' apartments leak, only the crazy lady downstairs, and they fixed her leaking pretty early on.

Over the last year or so, these leaks have occurred with varying degrees of magnitude. Sometimes there's a lot of water and it smells really bad, other times there's just a little water.

I lovingly call my apartment The Maxi-Pad. Because it's super-absorbant.

Granted, there should be no water at all, but I've gotten kind of used to fearing heavy rains. Besides, the worthless yet genial rental girl knocks my rent in half whenever it happens. So it's saved me a lot of money, really. But it's also caused me a lot of grief. Fortunately it hasn't damaged any of my belongings, but my couch has gotten plenty wet. But it's been shredded by my cats, as well, so it's not like I care much what happens to it anymore.

The last time it leaked, a few months ago, it was really bad, like it was raining inside my apartment. So they replaced the horrible, indoor/outdoor type crap carpet that was in here with some really nice plush carpet. I was pleased. And the new maintenance guy stuck all sorts of stuff on the deck above mine to stop the water from coming in. So far so good.

I told them then though that I wanted another apartment. I couldn't deal with it anymore.

The rental girl called me last week to tell me another apartment on my floor, exactly like mine, will be open soon and I do I want to move into it? I told her I'd think about it.

It's very likely my apartment will leak again. (Which is really unfortunate with the new carpet and all.) But I really hate moving, which is why I've been tolerating this all this time. It's traumatizing for me. I've had some pretty rough days in my life, and I can truthfully say that some of them have been moving days.

Even though I'd be moving only a few doors down, I'd have to pack up my stuff, move it myself (it's not like they're going to hire movers for me), change my address, magazine subscriptions, cable, Internet, phone, etc., and then unpack. It would take up a weekend that I don't really have the inclination to fill with the tediousness of moving. And like I said, it really is somewhat traumatizing for me.

I haven't gotten back to the rental girl yet. I guess I'm still "thinking it over."

Right now, it is either thundering or the Reds hit a home run. I've got my fingers crossed for the latter.

2 comments:

Craig said...

Maybe your dad and that friend of his that had a heart attack can move you... again. What was his name?

Gina said...

Bill McCoy. But he didn't have a heart attack. I think he's on dialysis.