Have I mentioned how much I hate living in an apartment? Cause if I haven't, let me mention it now. I hate it. I hate living with other people, I hate listening to their noises, I hate smelling their smells, I hate dealing with their issues. I hate it.
I am currently listening to the fire alarm go off in the hall outside our apartment. "Ring, ring, ring. Ring, ring, ring." it goes, and it's been doing it for about 10 minutes now. Some idiot child has likely set it off, and is thinking they are so clever and funny for inconveniencing everyone who lives here. Filthy miserable brats. They blow smoke in our open windows, run around shrieking and swearing, break things, and make life miserable for those of us who are simply trying to live their lives. And where are their parents, you might ask? Who knows! Probably at the bar, or smoking dope. Oof, I'm sounding judgy, but for christ sake, it took a huge fight and a lot of tears to get Mary to sleep tonight, and I have my doubts that sleep will last with this crap going on.
Have I told you about all that has happened since we moved in here? Only two weeks, it seems like a lifetime. An unhappy lifetime. First there was the bathtub incident, I think I mentioned that before. Then we made the mistake of trying to use the microwave and the coffee maker at the same time and blew a fuse. Ian took a look at the fuse box, and when he opened it up, it spat flames at him, so we called maintenance. They came, took one look, and said "I'm not touching that, I have to call an electrician," and left. About 2 hours later (two hours with NO power at all to the kitchen, including the very full fridge and freezer) the guy showed back up with an electrician who said "wow! I haven't seen one of these in a long time!" Then, we discovered that we don't have enough power in this apartment to run the microwave properly. It took Ian 7 minutes to heat up a bowl of chili for lunch. I won't get into the raunchy smells of ethnic cooking that flood the hallway and our apartment every day. I mean, I don't mind ethnic food, but yikes it stinks, especially when the people cooking it open their front door, handily directly across the hall from us, to air out their place.
And the alarm is still going off. I swear to god, I'm going to loose it. Seriously. I'll give it something to bloody "ring, ring, ring" about.
UPDATE!
The ringing stopped at about 9:45 last night. It started again just before 7:30 this morning. It's been going for about 20 minutes now with no end in sight.
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2 comments:
Pity that it's against the law to tamper with Fire Alarms, because I'm sure that with the sucky electrical work in the apartment building, it wouldn't be too hard to do something to the fuse which powers the fire-alarm circuit.
Oh Lord. You're starting to sound like me when I lived next door to the whorehouse in Boston. I didn't mind that so much as the mariachi music at all hours (I'm told that's a turn-on in some countries) and the idiot that decided to light a barbeque INSIDE the freaking apartment. There was about ten feet between our buildings (just enough space to drop their spent condoms out the window and create a little "trojan trail" for the kids to play with). I came home to see an ambulance and fire engines in front of our house and learned there was no damage-but that many people inside had been overcome with fumes.
So yeah, neighbours suck-but you have to be careful how much you end up hating people or you could find yourself living on a bloody farm in the middle of nowhere.
On the bright side, if you're living there when the baby is born, the crying at all hours ought to be pretty good payback.
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