Sick days always make me feel so friggin’ guilty. I’m not accustomed to sitting on my ass and doing nothing – I’m all about the productivity, but sometimes when you’re feeling like fried ass, the only thing that sounds remotely restorative is sitting on your ass and doing nothing. I had such a dilemma on Monday when I woke up feeling incredibly weak and achy in every ounce of my body. Standing up to go to the bathroom made me feel like a woman of 71 and not 31. I get one paid sick day per quarter, and Monday was it.
But when I finally extracted my ass from bed at 7:30, I was wracked with guilt for needing to get so much more unpacking and organizing done, but lacking the energy to do it. The battle raging in my head was something like, “Should I wait until 9:00 for Barnes and Noble to open, get my book, and hide out in bed all day (because we still won’t have a couch until Thursday), or should I spend a few hours putting away the little piddly stuff still not unpacked, assemble and install my headboard, shower, and THEN go to Barnes and Noble and spend the rest of the day in bed?
Well, you ask, it depends on how you’re feeling. Smart question, reader. On a scale of 1-10, I was at about a 5. I was a 4.7, if you will. That’s enough to get out of bed and walk around the house like a zombie, but not enough to go to work and deal with undergrads who would easily suck my life force down to a 2 in one conversation. In the end, I half compromised. I put the rest of our clothes away, took a shower, and went to Barnes and Noble, then Target to pick up a bath shelf (There’s a serious dearth of storage in our bathrooms. It’s truly tragic.) Sometime after watching a documentary on Netflix and shoveling some leftovers in my face, I assembled my heavy ass headboard and dragged it down the hall to my room where I had to wrestle with the even heavier platform bed to get it in place. Then I dragged all the empty boxes in the house out to the recycle dumpster. And then I felt like DEATH. So I retreated to bed with my book.
Also filed under encounters that drain my life force, I woke up this morning to find that I had no internet. Weird blinky on the modem, so I reset it. It came back on with all lights flashing go, and still no connection. Fine. I guess I’ll go to work. So I logged into live chat from the office to ask them what gives.
Maricelle: May I have the phone number associated with your account, please?
Me: *providing the number listed on the bill* Although that needs to be changed as well since we haven’t had that number in years.
Maricelle: Thank you for the phone number, it works.
Maricelle: May I have your home address, please?
Me: *again providing her with the information*
Maricelle: Thank you for providing your home address.
Maricelle: I apologize for any inconvenience this has caused. Upon checking, there is currently a system maintenance in your area. As of this moment, we do not have an estimated time of repair. However, our technicians are working to resolve the issue as quickly as possible. We appreciate your patience while we work on this.
Maricelle: I am sorry for the trouble.
Me: Not a problem. I can work from the office for today.
Maricelle: Great. Thank you for your patience.
Me: However, I do need to update the phone number on file because it is no longer in service.
Maricelle: It’s okay.
Maricelle: Is there anything else that I can assist you with?
Me: Yes, I need to update the phone number on the account.
Maricelle: Thank you for being part of the Charter family. We are always looking forward in doing business with you. Please don’t hesitate to visit Charter Communications again. Have a great day!
Yesterday, we received another dispute from a guy who didn’t actually live in the apartment for most of the year. I’m guessing his roommates didn’t tell him that they were not very responsible about paying rent on time. Most of the complaints were about late fees, of which they had one every month. In his words:
Firstly, it has only just come to my attention that our rent was not being paid in full for a majority of the lease. I have since reviewed the Non-Standard Rental Provisions which we signed and I understand that these deductions to the security deposit were correct;
Thank you for finally getting on the same page, 13 months later.
however, the fact that we were never informed of this discrepancy is unprofessional.
We mailed you a balance sheet every month showing your outstanding balance. It’s not my fault if your roommates hid it from you, and most landlords don’t give you a copy of your ledger unless you request it. After about 3 more paragraphs complaining about late fees, he ended with this:
I also find it ridiculous that a “quarter sized burn mark in carpet” constitutes a $50 charge because of the damage done to the carpet. In an apartment which is almost entirely carpeted, a burn mark the size of a coin seems like a minute issue, especially because it will not make your apartment more difficult to rent out in the future.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha *breathe* ahahahahahahahahahahaha!
You’ve never talked to a girl in your life, have you? The first time I show that apartment with your burn mark, the first thing any girl is going to ask is “You’ll be replacing that, right?” (No, we will not. Get out of my building.) More to the point, did you or did you not create a burn mark in what was brand new carpet? And what the hell makes you think you aren’t responsible financially responsible for that damage? Be thankful we didn’t charge you to replace the carpet, asshat.
Translation of the above correspondence: I can’t be bothered to monitor the apartment for which I’m a responsible party, nor do I have to balls to talk to my roommates about how I’m keeping my whole deposit and they can split whatever is left. I, too, am a shitty excuse for an adult.
Honestly, if these emails and a bunch of complaints from girls about the occasional bug in the apartment and how they think they’re entitled to brand new carpet every year are the worst we have to look forward to, we’re doing pretty good. Even so, I’m going to do whatever I can to lease apartments exclusively to guys this year, because I’m ready to commit mass gendercide against the entire female sex.
In closing, I’d like to wish the following upon all of you 20-something dipshits whose idiot parents should have eaten you along with their placentas: