I fail completely at blogging lately, I know. Work/work related stuff and moving/move related stuff can just eat me. It’s also been hot as hell and at the end of the day, all I really have the energy for is 3-4 hours of video games. Thankfully, we got a wet deluge of awesome last night in the form of some pretty violent thunderstorms. It was the kind of thing where it’s light outside one minute and dark the next. Then the clouds started swirling together and building big, ominous thunderheads. Of course, my husband is the Darwin nominee who will stand there against the metal deck railing and shoot video of this mounting mayhem, rather than going inside to check the local news for reports of imminent tornado or lightning strike. Get in the house, dumbass. (I may or may not have actually said to him.)
Maybe it’s my desperate need for a vacation, and maybe it’s just work stress, but I’ve dealt with so many of the same questions in the past week that I have actually taken to copy/pasting or reading directly from emails I’ve already sent people. Of course, these brats always need to feel like they have the upper hand in responding to answers that they don’t like.
Know what? I don’t care; I’m over this shit. I just invested in some kick ass ear plugs to combat my:
List of Things I’m Tired of Hearing
Do you remember that conversation we had 11 months ago when you picked up your keys and I handed you a form with instructions to write down all damages and defects? Do you remember handing it in ten days later with a picture of a cock and balls drawn in the margin and a big beer stain in the middle, but nothing else? If you didn’t write it down, then I have no choice but to assume that you did it. And knowing you, you did it while drunk and don’t remember it. Unfortunately for you, drunk amnesia does not equal plausible deniability.
“Isn’t that your job?”
No, motherfucker, if it were my job, there wouldn’t be a whole subsection of the lease devoted solely to making it your responsibility. Go to the store, buy your own lightbulbs, and screw those fuckers into the sockets. And while you’re at it, shove one up your own ass and power it with the power of your smug entitlement. Fucktwaddle.
Part of my MIA status lately is due to the mountains of paperwork created for turnover. Yesterday, I sent letters to all our tenants scheduled to move in next month to describe the move-in procedures, to remind them of who still owes me money or paperwork, and to reiterate that rent is due on the 1st. I feel that a 2 week notice to pay rent is being INCREDIBLY generous. Once again, I am being told that I am unreasonable.
So, also added to the list this morning:
“What about a learning curve? We’ve never rented with you before and we don’t know your policies. Are you really going to charge a late fee if we’re late the first month?”
Yes. In fact, I’m going to charge it twice, plus 10% because you’re arguing with me about a late fee that you haven’t yet been charged. Twat.
“Are you going to have elevator service to help everyone move in? That’s a lot of stairs to move furniture up.”
Well now that you’ve mentioned it, Yeah, I can TOTALLY pull a lift system out of my pasty white ass and install it in a 100 year old building with nothing but a snap of my fingers!
Listen, asshole, you will be hauling boxes of flat packed, modular MDF and particle board, and a stained mattress that will most likely be laid directly on the floor. Don’t ever make the mistake of referring to that shit as furniture, especially when I know that you’ll be leaving it on the curb next August. Suck it up, buttercup.
And my personal favorites: “I thought you did it already…”and “Mhmm.”
My coworkers are often guilty of the first one, but I usually give them a pass because there are only 3 of us working in the office and a lot of shit to deal with for so little staff. No, this phrase is largely attributed to my darling husband.
Did you take anything out for dinner? “No, I thought you did it already.” Did you empty the bathroom trash cans before you took trash out? “No, I thought you did it already.”
Did you sharpen a rusty spoon for me to use as a shiv with which to stab you later? “No, I thought you did it already.”
And for me personally, “Mhmm” is even more infuriating. I’ll be standing in the bathroom, getting ready for work and ask him, “Can you make some coffee?” “Mhmm…” as he’s staring at something retarded on YouTube. *standing in front of the open/empty freezer* What do you want for dinner tonight? “Mhmm…”
Should I go buy a $200 bottle of wine, get shitfaced, and have nasty lesbian sex on the kitchen counter while you’re at ASV? “MhmmWAIT. What? When is this happening?”
At least he’s not completely ignorant of his surroundings.