Archive for June, 2010

What the hell, A/C?! You worked for one week. One Week. O-n-e W-e-e-k.

I thought this was going to be the best apartment we’d ever chosen (with maybe the exception of living on the river downtown). But guess whose air conditioning is out again?

I don't even care that the picture is blurry. That's how hot I am. (Remember: The digital thermometer showed the thermostat underestimates by three degrees.)

The thing that pisses me off most is that I called their corporate office Monday AND today and left two separate messages, but nobody’s returned my call. I was just calling to say I didn’t appreciate how the situation had been handled, but — assuming I ever reach them — I can also tell them it’s an ongoing problem.

Oh, and I still don’t know if our toilet’s been fixed.

Again, if you stumble on my blog and are considering moving to Park Estate in Memphis, please know the location is great, but the management is frustratingly ineffective.

[Edit: It's fixed. The awesome maintenance guy, Jim, pulled out a malfunctioning sensor that kept saying our condensation pump was clogged. He came after hours and has been nothing but helpful. Also, he told us our toilet has been fixed. ... I'm still making sure the corporate office knows our issue and our stance, but I'll give big props to Jim for doing his job right.]

Yes, I need to clean my apartment. But I also need to clean my desk, and while I’m filling in for vacationing coworkers, I just don’t have time to organize this mess.

Also note the strategically placed highlighter, which I included on purpose because it's the biggest highlighter I've ever had the pleasure of hoisting. (If it looks small, get a bigger monitor. Or enlarge the photo. ... Or just compare it to the size of my Energel.)

On the home front, the apartment complex’s corporate office didn’t call me back today (or fix the toilet, for that matter), but it’s all good; it gave me a chance to write up a timeline of when and how we contacted our property manager about the air conditioner.

Amuse me with tales of your insanely messy or impeccably clean workspaces, plus the size of the highlighters that reside there. Go.

Checkies my labradorite and quartz bracelet. Pretty, huh? A friend made it for me.

You can't tell it from this photo, but labradorite is luminescent, much like moonstone. It's pretty. ^____^

This afternoon, spurred by Lauren’s comment (which seems to have disappeared into the aether?) — Oh my God, they didn’t just automatically give you a break on your rent? Use your mad writing skills and give them a piece of your mind! — I called my apartment complex’s corporate office. They asked if I’d addressed my issues with the property manager (“Well, no … because she was kind of part of the problem …”), then said they’d have someone call me.

I hate that I have a hard time being more forceful about making things right. (I feel like I’m asking them to listen to me more than telling, though at this point, I have every right to be telling.) It’s not even so much about getting money off our rent, though I think we’re due some compensation. It’s that we had to prove to our property manager — by taking her a bleepin’ thermometer — that our apartment was hot. That’s just not right.

Fortunately, I submitted our first two service requests online (May 23 and June 2), so I have proof how long it took. And photos. Lots of P365 photos!

Sigh. I’m tired of putting my game face on when it comes to this apartment!

(Oh. They forgot to stop by to fix our toilet today.)

Notice Joe’s expression in this picture:

This is one unhappy feline.

That’s how I feel about our apartment complex right now.

Yesterday, Jim (the maintenance guy) knocked on our door. I was in the other room, but I heard Paul answer it.

“Hey, is your A/C cooling things down?” he asked. I thought it was very thoughtful he’d follow up in person.

“It sure is!” Paul replied.

“Great! Look, um, have you noticed any standing water in your bathroom? Your neighbors downstairs have a leak in their bathroom ceiling.”

Fantastic.

He checked our bathroom, went downstairs, then came up to deliver the bad news: They’re tearing out our toilet tomorrow (presumably to replace the O-ring, though he didn’t say). Paul and I have been using the second bathroom in the interim.

Living here is a comedy of errors. We got our rent bill in the mail today. I wish I had the time (and guts) to contest it, considering everything we’ve gone through this month.

Mandi and I had lunch at Swanky’s Taco Shop this afternoon. As usual, it was tasty. I just find their cup art so … disturbing. There’s nothing about this cup that makes me want to eat more tacos:

... not that it stops me from ordering a drink or anything.

I do like their “seat belt” chairs though:

The only thing that would make these chairs cooler would be actual working seat belts.

It’s been a lazy sort of afternoon; I napped first, Paul napped later, the cats napped all day. Some Saturdays are just perfect for that.