AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHH!!!
A several part blog posting. . .

Part 1: Landlords from Hell

I know that I only have a month left to live here, but I've HAD it. I seriously want to scream.

• My toilet, (which has been dripping since I moved in last August) is STILL broken. Of course, I told them that immediately - in fact, I have, according to my records (yes, I keep track) reminded them of the toilet problem 43 times since I moved in. Mind you, nothing was done about it until after they started LOOKING at their water bills instead of just absentmindedly paying them. Then all of the sudden it was an EMERGENCY that the toilet got fixed and I was yelled at for not alerting them to the problem. Riiiiiiight. So they came over, failed to fix it and instructed me to turn the water to the toilet off whenever I wasn't using it. Also, in the process, they made it stop flushing at all, which sort of made it a moot point. I called them immediately and told them that the toilet wasn't flushing at all. They said they'd be by that night to fix it. . . . well, 3 and a half weeks later, my toilet still doesn't work, despite me reminding them almost every day. I did manage to jimmy-rig the flushing mechanism, so now it sort of flushes. Luxury apartment, my ass. I have stopped turning off the water, figuring that it will get fixed only if they see the next bill.
• I got yelled at for taking my trash bag out to the bin. Seriously. I cleaned out the cat boxes and as usual, took my trash to the outside bin where the trash goes. This was Monday. My Landlord came out on her porch and yells: (mind, you, I'm on the phone at the time) "You need to rearrange your trash taking out schedule so that you are only putting trash in the bin on Wednesday nights. I don't want that smelly stuff in the bin for days." "Would you rather a huge bag of cat poop sits on the carpet of your apartment all week?" "Well, no, but you can clean the cat boxes out on Wednesdays." "I clean them everyday so they don't pee on your carpet." "I don't care what you do with it, just don't put it in here until Wednesday." If I could only devise a way of running it up a flagpole. . .
• They came into my apartment without telling me again. I know it was them. I had locked the door handle and knew which door I had exited out of. What sort of idiot sneaks into your apartment and deadbolts the wrong door? Mind you, these deadbolts are unlockable from the outside and only someone with a key could have unlocked the handle. If you are going to just come into my apartment, why don't you fix the stupid toilet while you are here at least?!! I called them on it, and they denied that they had been in here. Bull. Shit. In that case, I'd really like to know who else has a key to my place. . .
  

Part 2: Born Under the Sign of the Retarded Bureaucrat:

• Still no loan money. Still no word on when that might possibly be. I called Salliemae again and was told (AGAIN!) that this was because they had to contact the school, guarantor and lender. Apparently, contacting three companies takes over a month and a half. So, I've had to take out a bridge loan with my home bank. Pretty sad when a loan that you apply for over snailmail four weeks later comes earlier than another loan that you apply for online. Good work Salliemae. Good to know you are going to be making hundreds of dollars of this loan, but you treat me as a commodity as opposed to a customer.

Part 3: Real? Life Update:

• A teapot with special meaning that I loved dearly was broken today. I cried. Also, I am now devoid of a teapot.
• Still no stunt kite . . .