I was told that I could go pick up my keys on Friday sometime after 2pm, and that they would have the apartment ready other than some cleaning. Well, when I walked in it looked like a bomb went off. My oven was in my living room, there were boxes of trash sitting in corners, and my bathtub was stained with rust. At that point the leasing office said that they'd have my apartment done by five. Right. Five.
I wondered into the new place around 5:30 to see some progress. There was ONE guy putting up my ceiling fan. Nice. Wonderful. The boxes of trash are still around, and there are still holes in my closets. The ceiling fan was my top priority too. The ceiling fan man then told me that he was leaving at six because he wanted to go home. That's funny so did I.
DH and I then spent three an half hours cleaning our new apartment. We cleaned out bits of drywall off the floor, yellow stuff out of the refrigerator, and someone else's grease out of our new oven. I then went back to my old apartment and took a bath in bleach. I won't tell you what I found in the toilet. This is a family site.
We then proceed to move things in on Saturday. I'm not very strong, so we got in what we could. Due to Dh having to work half a day, we ended up going to sleep around midnight. At 4:30am we figured out we didn't have heat because we were so exhausted. I call the emergency heat line. No one answers. Good times.
6:30am I call again... no answer. Wow.
9:00am I call again... a guy picks up and tells me he'll be right over.
Noon he arrives... I'm so exhausted I can't bring myself to yell at him. His excuse: "I don't know how to work my new phone." Again, I am not going to post my exact words, because I'll get banned for life, but they were amazingly descriptive of his mother. Remember, I have to trust the man who can't work his phone to fix my heater. I love my life.
8pm we move the last box in. The heater works. I discover I forgot to clean out the dishwasher. There is green goo inside of it. I give up. Drink a glass of wine. Smoke. Then log on to TCS for some laughs.
You guys are the best. Thanks for reading my disjointed rant.
I wondered into the new place around 5:30 to see some progress. There was ONE guy putting up my ceiling fan. Nice. Wonderful. The boxes of trash are still around, and there are still holes in my closets. The ceiling fan was my top priority too. The ceiling fan man then told me that he was leaving at six because he wanted to go home. That's funny so did I.
DH and I then spent three an half hours cleaning our new apartment. We cleaned out bits of drywall off the floor, yellow stuff out of the refrigerator, and someone else's grease out of our new oven. I then went back to my old apartment and took a bath in bleach. I won't tell you what I found in the toilet. This is a family site.
We then proceed to move things in on Saturday. I'm not very strong, so we got in what we could. Due to Dh having to work half a day, we ended up going to sleep around midnight. At 4:30am we figured out we didn't have heat because we were so exhausted. I call the emergency heat line. No one answers. Good times.
6:30am I call again... no answer. Wow.
9:00am I call again... a guy picks up and tells me he'll be right over.
Noon he arrives... I'm so exhausted I can't bring myself to yell at him. His excuse: "I don't know how to work my new phone." Again, I am not going to post my exact words, because I'll get banned for life, but they were amazingly descriptive of his mother. Remember, I have to trust the man who can't work his phone to fix my heater. I love my life.
8pm we move the last box in. The heater works. I discover I forgot to clean out the dishwasher. There is green goo inside of it. I give up. Drink a glass of wine. Smoke. Then log on to TCS for some laughs.
You guys are the best. Thanks for reading my disjointed rant.