So things with the new stove and faucet have been going well. I've had other repairs on my mind, though, with regards to the apartment. And I have to say that if you're feeling like the place you're living needs work, you should just stay away from HGTV all together, specifically Income Property or Holmes on Homes. The Income Property guy is a dream landlord. Of course his apartments probably rent for as much as a mortgage, but we're not talking about money right now.
Anyway, back to me. Because it is all about me. I called my landlord and talked to her about a few things, the first of which was that my bathtub won't drain. And since it's old, the drain is weird and I can't figure out how to take it apart. She said she'd send someone over to clean it out, for which I am forever grateful. The thought of cleaning hair out of a drain is way worse than the day I stepped on a turd in Punkin's room. Like 56 times worse.
I also talked to her about the hole in the sink, and she was irritated that it hadn't been repaired, and about my fridge. The bottom shelf is sort of broken and the drawers are barely working. What happens is that every once in a while when you pull the drawer out, the entire bottom shelf collapses.
I also mentioned that my sliding glass door doesn't shut all the way. And then I apologized for complaining so much. But she sent someone over TODAY to fix everything. The sink has a stainless cap on it, the tub is clear, and they looked at the door. (My dad ended up showing me last night how to adjust it myself by turning the screws on the bottom of the door, so it was fixed before the guy showed up, but he inspected it anyway.)
The jury is out on the fridge. It looks like something may have been repaired in there, but I'm not sure. I called and left a message thanking them. Thirty minutes later while clearing the dinner table, the brand new garbage disposal stopped running. (Yes, I tried pressing the reset button.) I AM SUCH A PAIN.
But that's not what I really came here to tell you. See, about a month ago my neighbors across the hall moved out. They had about 17 kids and 3 adults living in a 2 bedroom. No biggie. Okay fine, it was more like 2 adults and 4 or 5 kids. When my apartment manager came to deliver my new stove she asked if I had a bug problem.
"Uh, no. If I did, you would know about it."
"Ya, I hate bugs. The place across the hall is crawling with roaches. They're everywhere, and I get to clean it! They trashed the place. I'm going to have your place sprayed too just in case."
"Thank you. That's really disgusting."
So the pest control guy came and sprayed and I felt so good knowing that it was just a precaution and that we were getting them before they could get me.
And then a week later I had to squish a couple of beetle-looking buggers. The second one especially caught my interest, so I googled, "cockroach" and quickly realized, to my horror, that they had in fact invaded my living space.
The pest control guy claims we will still see them for a couple weeks and then they will just go away. He is coming back in about a week to double check, though. In the meantime, if you've ever wondered if the description of cockroaches scurrying across the kitchen floor when the lights turn on is an exaggeration, it's not. Thankfully it was only one or I may not have been able to go back to sleep for fear of one of them crawling in our ears.