Home improvement...

The handyman who fixes things in my building says he's looking into repainting my entire apartment.







Yaay, right? Most people would be thrilled, no?




Most normal people.

I hate it when they work on my apartment. It always turns into an ordeal.

Those of you who were around last year surely remember all my whining about this project, which, by the way, they never finished, even though it seemed to go on and on forever. They were going to give my bedroom a second coat of paint "a couple of weeks later," and also put up a second towel rack in my bathroom, since they left me with just one. Which is now crooked, because of the way they hung it. "You want two?" they asked me. Yeah. I HAD two before you guys got involved in my life.

About a week and a half ago, I had to call the property management folks because someone apparently decided to throw rocks (or shoot BBs) at one of my dining room windows one night, leaving it with two distinct holes and a rather large crack. I also had a couple of weird collapsed spots in my hardwood floors, one of them about a foot and a half long.

A few days later, I got a frantic call at work from one of the property managers, telling me they had no keys to my apartment and the glass guy was there, and could I come home to let him in?


Um. No. It's noon, and I've just gotten back from a late breakfast with a former colleague. I can't leave right now unless it's an emergency. And how can they not have keys to my apartment? What if there HAD been an emergency? "Oh, we think the plumber might have them. He's terrible about returning keys."

Um. I feel really secure now, knowing that some random guy who's been in my apartment can get back in whenever he chooses.

So I'm asked to make another set of keys and leave them in their little drop box over the weekend, which I did.

Then it's three more days before the glass guy returns. But yay, the window's fixed. And boo, there's a mess for me to clean up. And a note from the handyman, saying he'll be in the following day to replace the piece of wood flooring. I decide to hold off on cleaning anything other than the bathroom, because I hate cleaning period, much less twice in a couple of days. (And no, I haven't gotten cleaning help yet, because I've been busy.)

He's a no-show the following day, of course. No message of explanation either. But he did show yesterday, and fixed the floor, and restained part of the floor. Nice, though stinky. And I also found stain on my computer table, my tiled dining room table, my kitchen, and my tiled bathroom floor. So now I have stain stains to clean. And then I see the note explaining all the other little surprise stuff he did, which includes some mystery repair to the bathroom window. And a mess in the tub I've just cleaned. Happy Friday!


He DID put up the second towel rack, though, in response to the note I'd left for him.

I hate to sound ungrateful, but could he not have told me what else he was planning to do? (He, by the way, is the one who still had my keys. Not the plumber. Still.)

I can't even imagine how much of a mess they'd make if they repainted the whole place, and how much of an inconvenience it will be for me to deal with. And how much of my stuff will end up with little paint spatters on it. And the floors. My bedroom floor has little paint spatters from last year. I had to get a new broom and a new mop because they, in a sad attempt to clean up after themselves on occasion, wrecked both.

We're going to have to have a little talk, if this come to fruition.


Sigh.

no, i don't know why the spacing is all fucked up on this post. fucking beta...