bekindtostrangers

I completely forgot I bought gummy peach rings. It's like I don't know me anymore!

So, at one point during the summer...fuck if I remember when... I came home from work and, in carrying about my normal routine, went to the bathroom. Upon arrival in my little bathroom, I noticed there was green...gunk...in my sink. It almost looked like dill. That's what the green looked like. You know what I mean. And it was laying in the browny/white sink in such a way that it was obvious the dill-like substance had been in the water, which had then drained slowly out and finally drained completely before I got home.

I thought it was weird, was a bit freaked out but figured pershaps my sink had backed up, given that there's about 200 other people that live in this building and didn't think anything else of it.

Until it happened again last week. Alright.

This time I tried rinsing it out immediately, and my sink wouldn't drain at all. So I got out the bottle of drano I always keep on hand, dumped it in, shut the door so the cats couldn't play and went about my business. When I went back a few hours later, the sink drained immediately. Yay, I thought, I'm awesome. I can be a house-owner. (All it takes is clearing a drain, right?)

This was like last Thursday or Friday. On Monday of this past week, the landlords went around to each apartment and gave us all a gift...which, apparently, is a 2-lb. box of Belgian chocolate covered cookies. Overkill, I think, but with the rent I pay, those cookies should've been plated in gold, I'm just sayin'.

Ooh, looky, there's my box. Yay, I win. I put the box on the counter and go about my business.

I get home from work on Tuesday, rushing in to change so I can run back out, do some last minute Christmas shopping in the crappy weather, since I was leaving the next day after work, and I round the corner from the front hall into the back hall...and...am slightly surprised.

If you stand at the top of the hall, you look right into the bathroom, right at the vanity. My habit when I come in is to turn on the back hall lights, because it lights up everything well enough that I don't have to turn individual lights on and off until I get settled. So, I can clearly see into the bathroom. Both cabinet doors are wide-open, everything from under the sink is in the hallway (somewhat haphazardly assembled, but such is to be expected from boys.) I go into the bathroom, there's a goopy brown sludge in the sink (that, thankfully, didn't smell) and a note on the vanity from my landlord saying that he was working on the sink today (last Tuesday) and he couldn't get it, but he called the plumber and he "might get to it tomorrow."

Okay, first.

Might? Might? You possibly fuck up my sink without guarantee that it'll be fixed before a long weekend? Really?

On top of that asinine asinineness, I have a whole laundry list of complaints.

1) They apparently had an overflow issue because they had taken the towel off the towel rack behind the door and used it to wipe up the water...and then dumped it, in a sopping heap, into the middle of the tub. Without even spreading it out. My rug was, at least, hanging over the tub.

2) They used up a large quantity of toilet paper, presumably before they resorted to the towel.

3) I didn't make a complaint to the landlord, nor did I file a work order. So unless they inspected apartments, there was no way for him to know that my sink had been stopped up for all of a day, one or two days before he showed up.

4) I was not given 24 hours notice. Yes, I had notice that they would be in my apartment to drop off my "gift," but once that gift had been dropped off - Monday - I considered that notice to be null and void. Any additional entry from that point on should have been proceeded by an additional 24 hours notice.

5) I'm pissed off by that bit for a couple reasons. I have two cats, one of whom longs to explore the World Beyond the Front Door, one of whom is neurotic and any time I've had scheduled work - like when my kitchen sink plugged, or when they did their "bi-annual" fire alarm, etc check, I always lock the cats in my bedroom and put a note on the door - the workers in this building are notorious for leaving doors open when they work and I can only imagine what Moe would do with that sort of freedom.

6) It also worries me that he left a note only because he was unable to fix the sink. There's potential I might never have known, had he been successful - which leaves my overworked, paranoid mind to think how many times have they been in here that I just haven't known? So now I feel compelled to leave booby traps (shoes placed just so behind the door, and so on) so I can tell if someone has been in here or not, that shouldn't be. I have a lot of expensive electronics, some of which is not easily replaceable and being a misplaced Chicagoan, I trust these people about as far as I can throw them.

I haven't called the office yet, because I don't quite know what to say. "How dare you fix my sink?" I'm uncomfortable that they came into my apartment without notice, when my lease specifically states that I be giving at least 24 hours notice, but I know the bitch in the office doesn't like me. Any time I've called her about anything (over various things that have come up) she's never returned my call. And when I've called back again, and she gets me on the phone, she's like...oh. right. 

Fuck you people. I pay much, much more than this apartment is worth because you think you're in a luxury area (hi, it's Cedar Rapids. Newsflash: you're not.) and I canNOT wait til late winter when I can start looking for apartments and get my ass out of this building. Toads.

ETA: A couple things I forgot to mention. One, someone had obviously used the toilet on Wednesday, at some point while fixing the sink, because the toilet seat was up and the only bipedal male who lives here wasn't home at all Wednesday. And also, both lights in the bathroom were burned out. You spent TWO DAYS in my apartment. You couldn't have replaced the fucking lights? Goddamn asshats.

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...because that's all I ever come here to do.

Moving on.

Okay. Maybe my idea of internet etiquette is misplaced, but let’s try this. I’ve been around these intertubes for near on 20 years (dear god, I’m old) and I’ve developed a few habits, and seen others develop the same habits, so I’m thinking I’m not wrong here.
 
This stems from an argument with the boy, so there might be much ridiculing of him in here. He’s aware.
 
Think of the interwebs as a giant room where lots of people mingle. Do you come into the room and wait for someone you know to acknowledge you? I don’t understand how this works. Do you expect your friends to be watching the door (i.e. their buddy list,) waiting for your arrival with baited breath? And if they never notice you standing at said door, you quietly leave without ever talking to them?
 
Why is the onus on your friend? They’re already here, they’re already partying. One would assume that they’re not waiting just to talk to you, so why would you assume they would notice as soon as you enter the room? Ignoring someone because you don’t want to interrupt is just rude, in my opinion, more rude than “interrupting” said person. Because unlike real life, you don’t actually physically interrupt someone.
 
And I have a friend who is an actual interrupter and some days it takes everything I have not to hit her in the head. Tangent: if you’re having a conversation with both, or more than two, people actively involved, that’s one thing and interrupting might be excused in that situation. But when I’m sitting here saying, “Yeah, I’ve been getting hives, I think I’m allergic to myself.” And you cut me off and say “ANYWAY, OUR BOSS IS REALLY HOT AMIRITE?” or whatever you were spewing = RUDE.
 
Just so you know.
 
Anyway.
 
When I sign into instant messenger, I talk to anywhere from 2 – 6 or 7 people, as well as have multiple browser windows and tabs, as well as my email, as well as twhirl or twitter.com, as well as Word. I’m a multi-tasker. I can do a lot and I can do it all at the same time.
 
To accomplish this, I must make a sacrifice. And that sacrifice is minimizing my buddy lists. Why? Because almost everyone I know IMs me when THEY sign on. If people are on when I sign on, then I IM them. I don’t expect them to know I’m there. I assume everyone minimizes like I do, because you DON’T need the buddy list open all the time.
 
So if you sign on and I don’t IM you, I’m not ignoring you. It does not mean I’m mad at you for being home late, K. It means I didn’t see you, pure and simple.
 
As far as I’m concerned, if we don’t talk, that onus is on you.
 
Never mind that you live here. This is the digital age, after all.