Thursday, November 15, 2007

I’m moving out soon… YEEESSSSSSS!!

This is the worst place I’ve ever lived. The apartment itself doesn’t suck (and I like my roommate), but I’m so sick of dealing with the management and the crappy facilities they psudo-provide.

Let me paint you a little picture of my day -

2:38 a.m. – I get out of the shower only to discover a big puddle of urine in the middle of my bed. Infuriated, I snatch up the dog and rub her nose in it while simultaneously yelling “bad dog!” (which no doubt wakes up my roommate) and slapping her behind. Stupid dog.

2:41 a.m. –The comforter and sheets are off the bed and in the tub. I rinse them all out and add some detergent, mixing it around, rinsing again and then draining the tub. Suddenly, I realize that I have a very wet, heavy blanket and set of sheets. I’m not really sure what to do with them at this point (hadn’t quite thought that one through), so I empty the dirty laundry from my laundry basket and put them in there with towels under the basket and go to sleep on my bare mattress.

6:45 p.m. – I’m finally home from school and work and I’ve finished my dinner. I’m ready for laundry, I guess. I scrounge for 4 quarters, change into sweats, and throw the jeans I was wearing into the laundry basket with the wet blankets I need to re-wash and dry.

6:46 p.m. – Laundry is much heavier when it’s sopping wet.

6:47 p.m. – I’m almost in my car when I see Maggie coming down the stairs after me. “That’s odd,” I think, “the last time I checked, my dog can’t open the door on her own…” I quickly realize that it’s the poor weather stripping around the door that makes my door never actually shut unless I lock it. Thanks again, Redstone Apartments.

7 p.m. – I enter the laundry room. The floor is completely covered in leaves and dirt. It’s disgusting.

7:06 p.m. - My laundry is happily swooshing around in the questionable washing machine. Most is right with the world.

7:28 p.m. – Anticipating the need for to actually dry the blankets and jeans, I’m looking in every corner of my apartment for one more quarter (I already found three in my car’s ashtray). I look in my wallet. No luck. In the drawer that holds my makeup in the bathroom. Nope. Dirty jeans pockets. Nothing. Pencil cup on my desk… I find a nickel, some dimes, a couple of pennies… and… what is that? Success! I do a little happy dance as I pull the last remaining quarter in my universe out of the pencil cup and put it in my wallet for later.

8:16 p.m. – Time to switch the blankets and jeans from the washer to the dryer. Maggie follows me down to the car (I figure she’s just going to figure out how to unlock the door next so I let her come with me). She hops in and I crank it up (I’m lazy and I don’t care about the environment) and we drive the 500 feet to the laundry room.

8:18 p.m. – My bedding and jeans are in the dryer and I put my last four quarters in the little slots. I push the quarters in, excited about the drying goodness that is about to ensue. The slot doesn’t come back out. I’ve seen this before, so I jiggle it a couple of times. The slot is still stuck.

8:21 p.m. – I’m still jiggling on the slot, determined to utilize the last remaining quarters in the world, as far as I’m concerned. I begin banging on the side of the machine, hoping this will do something.

8:25 p.m. – I’m pounding on the slot. Still no luck.

8:28 p.m. – I stick my keys in any hole I can find. Nothing helps.

8:31 p.m. – I am literally kicking the machine and rocking it back and forth in hopes of making the quarters fall where they should so the slot will come back out. Nothing.

8:33 p.m. – Furious, I storm back to my car to a confused Maggie. I drive over to Kroger and get change for two dollars (I’m still in my sweats and quite pissed off at this point)

8:42 p.m. – I move all the clothes down to the lower dryer and put another four quarters into the machine, praying that this one won’t stick too. Fortunately it doesn’t, and the blankets get mostly dry over the hour I leave them in. Unfortunately, the drying power isn’t great in that particular machine, so this dollar wasn’t really used well either. There goes two meals worth of money. Thanks a lot, Redstone Apartments.

Ps – The dog got into my roommate’s room today and peed on her bed as well… and then the exact same thing happened to her with the exact same dryer. I think Maggie and the management are working together to take all our food money.