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dragonlady7OK. My apartment, kinda small. 2 bedrooms. tiny kitchen. really tiny bathroom. third floor walk-up.
Fifteen hundred fucking dollars a month, not including utilities.
Besides that, it's a decent apartment. Much nicer than Jersey City.
One drawback: Lady downstairs = fucking psycho.
Actually, all the lady downstairs are fucking psychos. The one that has the apartment in the back told us we couldn't walk up the back steps into the building, even though we live here, because they're hers. Ooooo... kay.
There's a landing on the stairs. Obviously, the lady just downstairs from us thinks it's hers. Even though her doorway's nowhere near this landing, and we have to walk on it every day.
First, we had a mini-fridge we just couldn't get up the stairs. We left it there for a week. During that week, she moved the fridge several times. I opened it to air it out; she closed it. She turned it to face the other way.
And then she concocted some cockamamie tale about how if we left anything in the hallway the fire inspectors would fine us. (Uh... ok.)
I thought, OK, sure, whatever, that fridge doesn't belong there anyway, we'll make a space, and so we did, and it's part of our kitchen counter now.
Then, I had a carpet. It didn't fit in my room, which is carpeted anyway-- it kept peeling up and tripping me. Fine, I thought. It fits perfectly on the landing there, and will keep people from tracking dirt up.
She keeps folding it up or kicking it over. LET ME REPEAT-- her door is on the OTHER end so there's NO reason for her to even BE over there, much less kicking over my rug's corners.
During the summer, Dave and I would open the window to ventilate the hallway, because it provided airflow into our apartment.
She would close it.
Sometimes within minutes of my having opened it.
Finally I spoke to her about it. "Having it open lets in the hot air," she said.
"The air is cool on the first floor, yes, but whether it's open or not, the air's hot on the third floor," I said. "Seeing as both you and the first-floor occupants have air-conditioning, I thought you wouldn't mind if I sacrificed the coolness of the first floor for the ventilation of the third. Since it cools my kitchen off by 10 degrees to have that window open."
"Oh, okay," she said. And continued to close the window.
I started opening the top of the window so she'd have to bring out her stepstool to close it again. That's as petty as I got.
Lately, since about September, she's been turning the hall light on. I'd turn it off when I went out in the morning, since it was light then. It would be on again when I got home at 5. (Sunset's still after 6 around here.)
She hadn't done that last winter, but now she's doing it. I don't know.
And today, I got home, and she had turned the hall light on, put up heavy, light-blocking drapes on the hall window, had a stepstool up at the window, and had folded up my rug and laid it next to the stairs up to my apartment.
So I removed her stepstool, opened the dark drapes, and put my carpet back down. (It's got creases in it now from the number of times she's folded it over and stepped on it.)
It's just WEIRD. Neither of us can see that hallway when we're in our apartments. And I don't think that hallway is in either of our leases.
I Just Don't Understand What Her Fucking Problem Is.
So... should I go ask her why we have to have a pitchdark hallway, and why she keeps fucking with my rug, or should I just play dumb like I have been? Should I say, "lady, this town is so inhospitable we're leaving until Feb, could you just keep the psychopath stuff under wraps a bit until we leave?" should I say, "Lady, I just checked with the landlady and she said the hallway wasn't part of either of our apartments, so having a power struggle over it is pretty moot. I mean, I have six windows in my apartment, and you probably do too, so why do you feel the need to control this one?"
Or what?
Fifteen hundred fucking dollars a month, not including utilities.
Besides that, it's a decent apartment. Much nicer than Jersey City.
One drawback: Lady downstairs = fucking psycho.
Actually, all the lady downstairs are fucking psychos. The one that has the apartment in the back told us we couldn't walk up the back steps into the building, even though we live here, because they're hers. Ooooo... kay.
There's a landing on the stairs. Obviously, the lady just downstairs from us thinks it's hers. Even though her doorway's nowhere near this landing, and we have to walk on it every day.
First, we had a mini-fridge we just couldn't get up the stairs. We left it there for a week. During that week, she moved the fridge several times. I opened it to air it out; she closed it. She turned it to face the other way.
And then she concocted some cockamamie tale about how if we left anything in the hallway the fire inspectors would fine us. (Uh... ok.)
I thought, OK, sure, whatever, that fridge doesn't belong there anyway, we'll make a space, and so we did, and it's part of our kitchen counter now.
Then, I had a carpet. It didn't fit in my room, which is carpeted anyway-- it kept peeling up and tripping me. Fine, I thought. It fits perfectly on the landing there, and will keep people from tracking dirt up.
She keeps folding it up or kicking it over. LET ME REPEAT-- her door is on the OTHER end so there's NO reason for her to even BE over there, much less kicking over my rug's corners.
During the summer, Dave and I would open the window to ventilate the hallway, because it provided airflow into our apartment.
She would close it.
Sometimes within minutes of my having opened it.
Finally I spoke to her about it. "Having it open lets in the hot air," she said.
"The air is cool on the first floor, yes, but whether it's open or not, the air's hot on the third floor," I said. "Seeing as both you and the first-floor occupants have air-conditioning, I thought you wouldn't mind if I sacrificed the coolness of the first floor for the ventilation of the third. Since it cools my kitchen off by 10 degrees to have that window open."
"Oh, okay," she said. And continued to close the window.
I started opening the top of the window so she'd have to bring out her stepstool to close it again. That's as petty as I got.
Lately, since about September, she's been turning the hall light on. I'd turn it off when I went out in the morning, since it was light then. It would be on again when I got home at 5. (Sunset's still after 6 around here.)
She hadn't done that last winter, but now she's doing it. I don't know.
And today, I got home, and she had turned the hall light on, put up heavy, light-blocking drapes on the hall window, had a stepstool up at the window, and had folded up my rug and laid it next to the stairs up to my apartment.
So I removed her stepstool, opened the dark drapes, and put my carpet back down. (It's got creases in it now from the number of times she's folded it over and stepped on it.)
It's just WEIRD. Neither of us can see that hallway when we're in our apartments. And I don't think that hallway is in either of our leases.
I Just Don't Understand What Her Fucking Problem Is.
So... should I go ask her why we have to have a pitchdark hallway, and why she keeps fucking with my rug, or should I just play dumb like I have been? Should I say, "lady, this town is so inhospitable we're leaving until Feb, could you just keep the psychopath stuff under wraps a bit until we leave?" should I say, "Lady, I just checked with the landlady and she said the hallway wasn't part of either of our apartments, so having a power struggle over it is pretty moot. I mean, I have six windows in my apartment, and you probably do too, so why do you feel the need to control this one?"
Or what?
