feeling like a fried egg
Yo folks, it is only barely May and my apartment is like an oven on broil. I’ve got every fan in the house blowing –directly at me from every angle I’ve got an outlet to plug one into –and it is providing no relief. I’m hot, the cats are hot. I guess that is why I’m not in such a hurry to get my hot water heater fixed (I think it is just the switch). On Sunday I’m going to call the landlord and hit him right between the eyes: Get someone here to fix the hot water heater, someone to fix the leaking connection to the toilet, and GET ME A DAMN AIR-CONDITIONER. He can either get me a working air conditioner or he can try to find a tenant to rent this place without an air-conditioner in August when my lease is up at this price — good luck with that, dude.
I’ve had an extremely hectic week and am too tired to write much tonight but I promise updates tomorrow: lots of political stuff to discuss, terrorism in the news (or not as the case seems to be in the U.S.), kitty updates, and, of course the garden! Unless, of course, I’ve spontaneously combusted overnight. If so, scatter my ashes on my landlord’s doorstep.