Why I Live in an Apartment

Okay, I really wanted to name this “Why I Live at the PO”, but I don’t nor do I have an annoying niece named Shirley Temple… (Read the short story if you haven’t. It’s delightful.)

For giggles, the mechanism that tells the toilet tank that it’s full stopped working in the middle of the night. The good news is that it decided the tank was full, even when it wasn’t. The bad news is that this meant it took a reeeeeaaaaallllly long time for the tank to fill, so there wasn’t reliably enough water to flush the toilet. Not exactly something you want to discover at 1am. But since I rent, I didn’t have to figure out what was wrong or go and find the right replacement part. (Yes, of course I Googled it in the middle of the night, so I did figure out what was wrong, but I still didn’t have to deal with the fixing of it.) Nope, I have free maintenance. When I got to work, I left a voicemail at the complex office saying that it wasn’t an emergency, so someone didn’t need to come in during off-hours to fix it, but if someone could fix it while I was at work, I’d really appreciate it.

There is one thing I wish our maintenance guys carried – Post-its. It would just be nice to come home to a note on the door stating that they’d been there. But since they’d moved the bathroom wastebasket and shifted a few things on the bathroom counter, it was clear that they had been. (I also took the lid off the tank and could see the shiny, or at least as shiny as plastic gets, new part.) Yes, I am fully capable of doing basic home repairs. But it is lovely to go off to work and know that what’s broken will be fixed when I get home.


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