--- Man, it's the early hours of the afternoon and I already need a
cocktail. A can of whoop ass opened and unleashed on the Great White
Hunter landlord and Tweedledumb, the building manager, might suffice,
though. I'm not sure which I want more right now. Booze? Can of whoop
ass? Booze? Can of whoop ass? I don't know. Choices, choices. Our
landlord, in case you don't know, is an absentee owner. He lives in
Texas. If this year is like years past, he's currently on South Padre
Island, slurping a margarita while he basks in the warm Texas sunshine.
We, however, are in Minnesota. Where we got a foot of snow yesterday.
Yes, that's right, a foot of snow that is now all piled up on the roof.
Snow that is melting into water, despite the frigid temperatures,
because it's sunny outside. The water has no place to go because
Tweedledumb never bothered to clean out the gutters this fall, or last.
Water that should flow down to the ground but because of the
underinsulated attic that is above me and allows for the heat to flow
up to the roof to ice things over some more, has backed into the walls
and is currently running down the inside of the window I sit next to. AND THE CONSTANT DRIPPING IS DRIVING ME INSANE!
Now, this doesn't go into the fact we have no phone service right now.
Yes, the two things are related. The nice lady at Qwest said her
diagostic check revealed a short in the line. Someone should be here
before tomorrow night
to fix the problem. Seems some of this dripping water shorted the damn
phone line out. How we still have DSL---it comes in on the same phone
line as our house line---I don't know. I don't really care, either. BUT
the dripping is driving past the point of rational thought. I'm going to lose it soon: take cover.
Why is this guy such a goddamn idiot? He spends thousands of dollars putting a new roof and gutters on the house, and yet he doesn't make sure his manager takes care of things! He spends even more money putting in all new windows and forced air heat. He knows
ice dams are now a potential problem with the new heating system. The
attic never got overheated when we had steam heat. Forced air heat is a
different story. The venting runs through the attic. Tweedledumb even
told me during the construction period that he would have to be on the
lookout for ice dams. They knew this would be a problem. They just don't care!
Honestly, how hard is it to get out on a ladder and clean out the gutters? How hard is it to call a roofer right now
to come out and clean off the snow? All Tweedledumb has to do is pick
up the phone and call a roofer. This is what roofers do here in the off
season, they come out and clean off snowy roofs to prevent ice dams.
Their fear of heights is nonexistent year round; why shouldn't they
make some money in the winter, too? I just don't get why, when there
are resources available, they don't take care of their property better.
The reason they had to spend all that money in the first place was
because they didn't spend the money on upkeep. I don't know: it must be
cheaper to their way of thinking to spend a boatload of cash every once
in a while on a massive upkeep, rather than a little here and there. I
like the house I live in. It's in a GREAT location. It's got TONS of
potential, but its a slumlord property and hence it won't ever reach
its potential because our landlord would rather spend our rent checks
on safaris, beach houses, and taxidermy than upkeep. Now, as a free
market capitalist, this should be all right with me: it's the Great
White Hunter's property, he should be able to run it the way he wants
to, right? Well, in theory, yes, he should be able to, but this man has
no problems with screwing with my life because he's lazy and because he
hires incompetent nincompoops to look after his property. The only
reason we got a new furnace, even though the old one was breaking down
quite regularly which is a big legal no-no in Minnesota, was because he
toured the property once and felt, and I quote, depressed
when he was done. I almost had an aneurysm when I heard that. So, he
fixed a few things. Big-freaking-whoop-de-goddamn-do. He's back to his
old habits and it's screwing with my life!
We're constantly paying the penalty for their mistakes. In the past
it's been a toxic basement because the sewer line backed up into the
house and Tweedledumb was in detox and couldn't take care of it.
Boilers have broken down in the middle of winter. Three weeks in a
hotel while they put in the new windows and furnace, the resultant mess
we wound up cleaning up because the people they hired were incompetent
(They cleaned the inside of the microwave---not the three inches of
dust on the top). The list is long. The penalty du jour: our phone line
is out through no fault of our own. And I can't get Tweedledumb on the
phone to save my life. Voice mail. He's dodging because he probably
spent his discretionary budget for the month. Booze? Drugs? He got
ripped off by yet another contractor he didn't have the good sense not
to hire? I don't know. I just know that I'm getting damn tired of this
crap. Booze? Can of whoop ass? You decide. After five years of this
shit, I've about had it.