I’ve been working on this post for weeks. It was most recently entitled “Love letter to my apartment.” I was almost ready to peel myself away from Mad Men season 2 to finish it. Then this happened:
Sigh. I’ll try not to let my emotions finish writing this post.
It’s comedic. Yet ironic. So I’m washing a few dishes. I let the water drain from the sink and feel splashing on my bare feet. Ick. I open the cabinet to see a puddle, and luckily, a mound of wet old rags already soaking it up. I pick up the brand new, extra large bag of cat food, and in typical slapstick-movie fashion, the whole bottom falls out. Cats run to devour the mountain of food. I start pulling hair out. And scene.
I’m no stranger to renting calamity. Flashback to my old apartment in Lakeview. I’m blow drying my hair in the bathroom and am suddenly startled by a thunderous sound and Joe screaming like a girl. From the sounds of it, I thought this movie would feature a scene with a fleet of rogue pirates attacking my apartment from Lake Michigan. Nope. Cut to this:
And cut to me taking several boxes of clothes to Goodwill.
If I were truly writing a comedy about my apartment adventures, I’d purposely leave out the scene of my very own tiny apartment in Bloomington, Indiana. I was convinced the black residue growing up its tiny walls was mold. I freaked out, threw several items away and persuaded my landlord to take care of it. The “mold” was actually candle smoke residue on the wall. Oh, being young and naive is funny, right? My landlord reimbursed me for some of the discarded items items. Looks like I got the last laugh.
I do want a condo to call my very own. But until that glorious day arrives, I’ll continue to call my landlord to fix any comedic situation that comes my way.
Even though my apartment’s tiny size makes me want to exchange it for a five-bedroom home in Hammond, Indiana, some days (which, btw, would probably cost the same), I love it. Its Cracker Jack box size is just perfect for Joe, me and our kitties. Just don’t be offended if our foyer or “study” is your guest room when you visit. They was satisfactory enough for my siblings Tricia and Drew when they recently visited:
I don’t mean to complain. I do love my apartment. I love its location. A lot. And I loved the exposed brick, natural lighting, the color of the walls my dear friend Andrea and I spent a weekend painting. And most of all this:
The view is mostly why we can’t move in October. That, and I finally got my license changed with the right address. There’s no way I’m going back to the DMV. Until then, let the hilarious times roll.