Cuidado, indeed. Even if we wanted to, we couldn't open the door-- there is a 2x4 wedged behind the slider, in a cruel reversal of the "security system" GP has devised that involves placing a level (yes, a level) behind the interior sliding door space.
Oh, and where is all the stuff that usually lives on the balcony?
Why, right in the living room, of course! Where else should we put the 12-foot tripod that elevates our DirecTV dish to a height where it's able to receive signal? I am shocked that I haven't stubbed any toes on this thing, shocked and grateful.
In addition to this business, there are currently many different Huge Piles of Dirt blocking random walkways throughout the complex, which make getting to one's car or fetching the mail a more challenging task than ever thought possible. There is, of course, also the accompaniment of numerous power tools, if your brain needed any more aggravation. Ah, apartment living...
6 comments:
Oh, man. One time, our bathroom ceiling literally fell in. It was horrible. Then my roommate (a rather snarky journalist) wrote all about it in the school paper, which rocked. However, the week without a bathroom did not rock.
A toilet exploded once in an old apartment.
I absolutely love and hate apt living. Hate it for things like this, love it because you're so much less responsible for fixing things that go wrong.
Oh, wow. Soo, what happened to the balcony? And how long is it going to take to fix the problem so you can have some more space without stubbing your toes?
Uh oh... the joys of apartment living! I hope the caution ribbons come down soon and your cable returns!
Just be careful when barbecueing in your living room. I hate to think what other calamities could arise from careless indoor grilling.
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