"The idea that I can't share my problems with other people makes me not give a shit about their problems." Chuck Palahnuik (1962 - ), Invisible Monsters, 1999.
One of my favorite sayings, which I used to say in a kinda of ironic manner, is "Who am I? Job?" Today the universe decided to see if I was. Everything, and I mean everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong.
Repeatedly.
Brilliantly.
WRONG.
I'll list them quickly: one of my tenants called the electric company because she thought her bill was too high, they came, they saw, they decided I need to install another electric service and are making my life a living hell although we thought we had this ALL FIGURED OUT previously. Whilst figuring out the wiring rat's nest I discovered that downstairs tenant is living in SQUALLOR and FILTH and has moved her indigent grandson into the studio apartment she already shares with her daughter. (2 people..well...ok, three people, no way). Indigent grandson is SMOKING even though it was made clear that there was to be NO SMOKING in the building. This is especially irksome because I rented the apartment to her partially furnished and now the bed and couch are STINKING. Indigent grandson is also flicking his ash EVERYWHERE. It is covering every flat surface in the place. When I say every flat surface I mean that. It's not just like, oh, here is an overflowing ashtray, it is, quite literally, a table that is covered with ash, almost as though he were just flicking it on the table directly or had emptied an ashtray on the surface. This is disturbing enough but there are cardboard boxes and bags COVERING the floor. One of the exits is blocked. NOTHING is hanging in the closest which are large and one of the best features of the apartment, instead there are piles of boxes and bags. One stray cigarette butt and it's a pyre.
When I came home I tripped in the upstairs and stepped on my hubby's laptop essentially destroying it and wrenching my back and shoulder. Enraged and upset I walked downstairs to get the mail whereupon I learned that my unemployment had indeed been denied although I might appeal if I chose to BY JULY 13th. Coming inside to check my email I learned that my credit card had been denied twice when the art association hosting an upcoming show tried to bill me for my entry fee, oh, and, by the way, when they tried to call me about it my phone was DISCONNECTED. (Yes, folks, I forgot to pay that one. Thanks, Amnestic Disorder.) Credit card still has an available balance so I'm not sure what the hell is going on with that. THAT, is tomorrow's problem.
As for tonight, I'm waiting for the boils and the locusts to show up.
One of my favorite sayings, which I used to say in a kinda of ironic manner, is "Who am I? Job?" Today the universe decided to see if I was. Everything, and I mean everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong.
Repeatedly.
Brilliantly.
WRONG.
I'll list them quickly: one of my tenants called the electric company because she thought her bill was too high, they came, they saw, they decided I need to install another electric service and are making my life a living hell although we thought we had this ALL FIGURED OUT previously. Whilst figuring out the wiring rat's nest I discovered that downstairs tenant is living in SQUALLOR and FILTH and has moved her indigent grandson into the studio apartment she already shares with her daughter. (2 people..well...ok, three people, no way). Indigent grandson is SMOKING even though it was made clear that there was to be NO SMOKING in the building. This is especially irksome because I rented the apartment to her partially furnished and now the bed and couch are STINKING. Indigent grandson is also flicking his ash EVERYWHERE. It is covering every flat surface in the place. When I say every flat surface I mean that. It's not just like, oh, here is an overflowing ashtray, it is, quite literally, a table that is covered with ash, almost as though he were just flicking it on the table directly or had emptied an ashtray on the surface. This is disturbing enough but there are cardboard boxes and bags COVERING the floor. One of the exits is blocked. NOTHING is hanging in the closest which are large and one of the best features of the apartment, instead there are piles of boxes and bags. One stray cigarette butt and it's a pyre.
When I came home I tripped in the upstairs and stepped on my hubby's laptop essentially destroying it and wrenching my back and shoulder. Enraged and upset I walked downstairs to get the mail whereupon I learned that my unemployment had indeed been denied although I might appeal if I chose to BY JULY 13th. Coming inside to check my email I learned that my credit card had been denied twice when the art association hosting an upcoming show tried to bill me for my entry fee, oh, and, by the way, when they tried to call me about it my phone was DISCONNECTED. (Yes, folks, I forgot to pay that one. Thanks, Amnestic Disorder.) Credit card still has an available balance so I'm not sure what the hell is going on with that. THAT, is tomorrow's problem.
As for tonight, I'm waiting for the boils and the locusts to show up.
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