Let's see...where to start...
Tuesday night I got my lease renewal form slipped under my door. Normally, my apartment management company raises my rent by $50 a month every year. No improvements to the apartment or the complex, mind you, but $50 raise nevertheless. Just enough to be annoying, but not enough to justify moving out. This year, they've decided to raise my rent by $100 per month. $100 more a month for the same rotting caulk on my tub, for weeks of the parking lot gate being stuck open, for the parking lot lights to be burned out and not replaced, for my mailbox getting broken into and learning that it's not their problem. All this for the low low monthly increase of $100. With the $50 a month increase, that comes to $600 a year: less than the cost and hassle of moving. But $1200? That's a different story. Tuesday night I began the process of dealing with this situation that is making me so angry that it's impairing my vision.
Wednesday morning I wake up to no hot water. I called in sick figuring my time was better spent at home dirty and sending out resumes than busting my ass to get a shower at the gym before work. I spent a good five hours on various jobhunting sites. I think I managed to eke out 12 places that I was qualified for, seemed marginally interesting, and were worth at least the email. It's a jungle out there.
Thursday I receive my Annual Review form from my boss exactly one month late. I'm fascinated as to how this is going to work out. The guy openly despises me, and refuses to give me any sort of management or instruction. Over half of the duties I am supposed to be performing are conditional on him telling me what he wants me to do, but he does not talk to me. I filled out my form as honestly as I could while still sounding upbeat and enthusiastic. This aughtta be good.
Called the manager of my apartment complex to discuss the potential mistake on my lease renewal form. Got voicemail. No return call.
Friday was actually a great time. Went to the Fairfax Festival with sirrani, rock_god and bobwhite, met up with friendship7 and some of his friends, and thanks to the generosity of g_nice, Bob and I were able to get into the fair for free. Carla and I skittered around the carnival like a couple of kids, with Keith in tow carrying our stuff, and Bob and Jerry trailing behind, not far from the beer tent. Bob, Jerry, and co. left just as we ran into a few of our other friends, so the Bermans and I hung out with them for the rest of the night.
Saturday my mom came in town and she drove around with me looking for a new place. Everything we looked at was either run down, in a terrible neighborhood, or overly expensive. We did find one place that has potential: it's as big as my apartment, but with the coveted balcony and carpeting. The only problem is it is not very Metro accessible. Saturday night we went to dinner with my brother and his wife, watched the hockey embarrassment, and after mom fell asleep on the couch, we went up to Buffalo Billiards for Dr. Cocky's birthday/going away party.
On the way to my brother's place on Saturday night, I noticed my rear driver's side tire is now on a diagonal. The rear passenger side is still straight, but the drivers' side is crooked. If you were to stand behind my car, the two rear tires would look like this: / | I was afraid to drive it home and am afraid to find out what is wrong with it when I take it to the shop tomorrow. My Sweet Justice is literally falling apart at the seams. I'm worried that the repairs are going to be expensive. Is dumping a few hundred dollars into an 8-year-old, 100K mile car worth it?
Called the manager of my apartment complex to discuss the potential mistake on my lease renewal form. He works Monday - Friday 9-5. Got voicemail. No return call.
Sunday, more apartment hunting. If Sunday's hunting trip tought me anything, I learned what "Fair Housing" means. Apparently, if there is an apartment in a nice area with convenient access to Metro for less than $1,300 a month, these are "Fair Housing" buildings. How "Fair Housing" works is that these less expensive apartments are only available to people who do not make enough money to afford them. The "Fair Housing" units have household income caps that, even if the resident did make the absolute maximum allowable income, their rent would be 45% of that salary. I fall quite nicely in that niche between the two: I'm too rich for the affordable housing, but too poor for anything else in an area I might want to live in. "Fair Housing" indeed.
I'm also convinced that my bed is breaking. Apart from Justice, my mattress and box spring are probably my most valuable possessions. Perhaps I need a better bed frame, rather than that crummy wheeled perimeter thing that came with them. I woke up in a panic this morning convinced that the bed was going to snap down the middle and Mickey and I were going to fall straight through to the floor, so I made him come sleep with me on the futon in the living room. Until I get a new bed, I think I'm going to buy some wood at Home Depot to make slats for the frame. I can't have both my car, my apartment, and my bed all crap out on me at once.
If I had never seen the Sopranos, I'd be convinced that the sharp pains in my chest that I have been feeling yesterday and today were indicators of a serious condition. Fortunately, I've watched enough television to not have to waste a doctor's appointment excuse on a psychosomatic stress manifestation. I need to save those up in case I ever get an interview.
Today I'm supposed to have my sit down Annual Review with my boss today where we discuss the form I filled out. I wish I had enough energy left to be nervous about it.
Called the manager of my apartment complex at ten to discuss the potential mistake on my lease renewal form. Got voicemail. No return call.
Called the manager of my apartment complex at eleven to discuss the potential mistake on my lease renewal form. Got voicemail. No return call.