#but here i am just trying to unclog my fucking tub drain. it is so incredibly undignified. i think i bruised my wrist.

[orcelito]

I'm going to wear the skin off my hand at this rate. From fucking with the fucking drain snake.

No, I don't have it fixed yet. I did manage to pull a wad of hair out though. So I'm still trying. My hands just hurt.

[ego-sum-id-quod-cantum-ludere]

WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LIVE IN AN OLD PEOPLE'S APARTMENT BUILDING

Holy shit, I haven't even been living in here for two months, and I'm going to be living here for at least another five. All I want to do here is make myself bedridden because that's the only thing that can go okay.

Before I get into this, I would like to say this for context: My dad decided that the pandemic was the best time to sell the house that I grew up in, and so he did. He wanted my two siblings and me to live with him in this apartment building meant for the elderly, but four people can't fit in an apartment for two. So we tried getting a double for my sister and me, but there weren't any available. The only available space was the common room that was being unused because of the pandemic. So that's where we're living.

THOUGH ADVICE IS HELPFUL, THIS POST IS MOSTLY FOR VENTING!

PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON'T TELL US TO GET A JOB OR GET A DIFFERENT APARTMENT OR ASK WHERE MOM IS BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW OUR SITUATION, AND THIS IS ONLY A SMALL PORTION OF THE PROBLEM WE'VE BEEN PUT IN!

Now that that's out of the way, these are the problems that have occurred thus far:

1. Old people trying to break in.

I swear to God, the next time a Boomer with dementia tries to break in the room, I'm going to flip my shit.

Just today, there was an old lady who tried to break in THREE times. She got in successfully once because we had to leave the door unlocked for the workers to get in and try to fix the problems we were having with the pipe. The first thing she did was TAKE OFF HER MASK! The second thing she did was ask if there were other people in here, and my sister and I said, "No, we live here now." And then, she nearly brought herself to tears over her story of how she likes the piano and her father was a professional pianist, and that she misses the people. And we had to say, "Sorry, but we live here now" and send her on her way. Because we live here now. So then she leaves and we lock the door.

If we had left the piano open, or if she noticed the keyboard behind me, she NEVER would have left!

NOT EVEN FIVE MINUTES LATER, she returns to our door and tries to unlock the door with her keys!

We've told the owner multiple times about this since people try to break in almost every day, but the problem is that no matter how many times he tells all the old people that we live here, there will always be at least one person that forgets and tries to break in, and there's nothing we can do about it.

Also, as I was writing this post, someone else tried to break in (or maybe it was the same person trying to break in) YET AGAIN!

And then after my siblings and I had dinner, someone tried the handle on the doorknob FOUR  SEPARATE TIMES! With a total of NINE TIMES that this has happened in one day, it has been a new personal record. Usually, it has only been once or twice a day.

2. AC problems

Bugs can easily get in the building through the vents when the AC is turned off. One time, a wasp got in here.

The filters only get replaced once a year. As far as I know from previously living in a home with an HVAC system, the filters are supposed to be replaced every 1 to 3 months.

You can't put things up against or near the vents, otherwise problems will occur.

The AC has leaked before. Thankfully, there were little to no damages, but now I'm afraid to leave it on for long periods of time.

3. THE MAIN PIPE OF THE BUILDING IS EXTREMELY CLOGGED, and it just so happens that the young folks here are the ones to notice something going on.

When we first moved in, we noticed a puddle of dirty water coming up from the bathtub drain, and we didn’t know where it was coming from or why it was happening. So we called someone in to examine it, and all he said was that they knew of this problem but didn’t want to do anything to fix it. So we had to accept that this was a problem that couldn’t be fixed (or that the owner didn’t want to fix it).

From then on, we assumed that the water came from one of our neighbors. We tried ways to bypass this issue while we were taking a shower, such as leaving the drain closed, and letting the water from the shower fill up the tub a bit before opening the drain. However, there was still dirty water coming up at times, and we don’t know why.

LAST NIGHT, however, we heard a strange bubble coming from the kitchen sink, and it turned out that the dirty water that would usually come up in the bathtub WAS FILLING UP THE SINK! So we had to call someone about this, and they came in this morning to check it out. They tried using a plunger in the sink, but more water kept coming up the garbage disposal. That’s when they realized that THE WHOLE PLUMBING SYSTEM IN THE BUILDING WAS CLOGGED! THE MAIN PIPE WAS CLOGGED! So now they have to figure out how to unclog the main pipe. That will be an update for a later time.

Update: apparently, this exact same problem happened a few years ago! This clearly shows how fucked-up the plumbing system is in this building - that the MAIN pipe of the building gets clogged EVERY FEW YEARS!

Update 2: The sink bubbled up again and now has more water in it.

4. The owner is shady as fuck.

The owner of the building is the original owner’s grandson. Ok, cool, he got a family business going. That’s cool and all, but why does his personality creep me out so much?

When he first met me, he thought that I was the mom, that I was the one running the show. But I’m not the mom, and I’m not even the one “running the show”. He knows full well that my dad was the one who decided to make my siblings and me live in a Boomer building, and my sister (bless her soul) is the one who is taking care of my brother and me (but it’s not like my dad will ever acknowledge that).

The way he talks is very strange, too, as if he’s trying to coo force me to be comfortable. And he blows me kisses too, like wtf? I understand doing that to your grandson, but doing that to a stranger, let alone a grown-ass adult is creepy.

He also has immigrant workers, which is not inherently bad, but on the day we were moving in, he showed my dad a text of one of the workers being deported back to the Dominican Republic. So either the immigrant workers are there undocumented or they did have a Visa or green card that expired and the owner didn’t let them renew their Visa/green card. If it’s the latter, then holy shit that’s fucked up. Also, I wonder how well they’re being treated in general when they’re working, or how much they get paid compared to other non-immigrant workers (oh wait, they can’t figure that out because we live in a culture that refuses to let their workers talk about their salaries in fear of demanding better wages, whoops).

5. The Wifi breaks every so often.

It’s not as big of a deal as the others on here, but it is annoying.

There’s constantly been construction going on in the street adjacent to the apartment building, and one time the cable got cut out. It took a few hours for the problem to be fixed.

It’ll be more annoying if the Wifi breaks while I’m trying to attend classes on Zoom or doing homework.

6. Other general bug problems

The bugs that my sister and I get are mostly mosquitoes, gnats, and other flies. In my dad’s apartment, where my brother sleeps, there are big black beetles everywhere! We don’t know if they’re cockroaches or not, but he gets many of them flying and crawling in his room every night, and he has to lose hours upon hours of sleep whacking these bugs with a fly swatter until they’re dead. And once he kills one, another starts flying around. We have no idea where these ones are coming from either.

In conclusion, this apartment building is very problematic, and the only reason why other people haven’t complained about the problems of this building is that they’re old and are less likely to notice or care about these problems. I wouldn’t be surprised if the walls have asbestos in them. Unfortunately, I have to be stuck here for at least another five months, maybe more if this pandemic rages on for decades (thanks in no part to the government - oh, whoops, I’m not supposed to say that, lol).

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading this post. Again, this post was mostly for venting, but some helpful advice on how to get out of this situation (or at least not feel like I’m suffering so much) would be appreciated.

If you’re living in a similar situation as I am, I do have one piece of advice for you - don’t go to Quora and anonymously ask questions. They WILL bully you.

[scribomaniac]

The Woes of Having Neighbors, Chapter 9

It was Sunday, and just like every Sunday, Elide spent the morning holed up in her apartment deep cleaning the place. Counters were wiped down with bleach; photo frames, lamps, the TV screen, and decorative glass was dusted; the wooden floors were vacuumed and swiffered; her shower tub was scrubbed down; and drains were unclogged.  The dark haired girl’s mother had a job, once upon a time, in the cleaning industry and she had passed all her learned skills down to her only daughter.  Her father, with his background in the marine corps, had instilled discipline and commitment into her from the day she learned to tell time.  Take those two factors and add in the fact that Elide herself was practically never home due to either work of her friends, and Sunday was the only day of the week her household chores could be completed.  

Unfortunately, most other people also felt like Sunday was the day to complete chores, too.  Fortunately, Elide was naturally an early riser and could usually finish her external chores--grocery shopping and laundry--before eleven o’clock.  Usually.  This morning, however, was different.  Instead of waking up naturally at six o’clock--a time that made Asterin hiss--Elide was woken up at five-thirty--a time that made her hiss--by the sound of a hammer pounding relentlessly into a wall in the apartment adjacent to hers.  

Elide had been expecting a new neighbor for several weeks now.  The unit next to hers had been vacant for over a month and the landlord had been desperately trying to find a new tenant.  It was a good apartment, similar to her own with a few minor differences such as the colors of the walls. Elide hadn’t understood why it had taken so long, and had been relieved--if only for the sake of her landlord--when she heard it’d finally been taken off the market.  So at five-thirty in the morning, with her pillow over her head, Elide also couldn’t understand why her new neighbor felt the need to move in at such an un-godly hour.

Still, the dark haired girl was an opportunist if there ever was one, and she didn’t let let something as inconsequential as an early wake up ruin her day, so with a deep, almost monstrous groan, Elide had rolled herself out of bed and began her day.

Now, several hours later, Elide regretted that decision with every fiber of her being. It was almost noon and she had almost nothing to show for it.  Her new neighbor, who continued producing sounds akin to a construction site, apparently had also decided that move in day was the best time to do the laundry.  Her apartment building only had one washer and dryer in the basement, and never before had Elide had to wait to do a load before.  It was ridiculous considering the time of day, but Elide grit her teeth and moved on with her morning routine.  

Or, she would have, if she weren’t out of almost all her cleaning supplies.  And since the local grocery store down the street wouldn’t be open until ten--since it was Sunday--she had to wait.  She hated waiting.

Elide tried going back to sleep, but couldn’t manage it thanks to that damn hammering.  Seriously though, what could they be doing in there that needed that many nails?  She tried watching TV, but nothing good was on at six in the morning, and the news just repeated itself after the first half hour of information.  Thankfully she had some bills to pay, emails to respond to, a checkbook to balance, and was able to get a head start on a project for work.  Still, even when she’d gotten through all that, it was barely ten, and after a quick glance in the laundry room--her neighbor’s clothes were done, they just hadn’t claimed them yet--she headed out to the grocery store.  

It was the first thing that went right for her.  Sunday was normally the busiest day for grocery stores, but didn’t tend to become busy until at least noon.  With her list in hand, Elide easily navigated the familiar aisles and within the hour had everything she needed to last a month.  Standing in line and double checking that’d she’d gotten everything on her list, a crash sounded behind her, making Elide’s eyes widen and her body to freeze up.  

“I am so sorry!” A woman’s voice cried almost immediately after the crash.  Turning around to see what had happened, Elide sucked in a gasp.  From what Elide could tell a woman had crashed her cart into a man’s, causing him to fall against a tower of canned soup.  No one was hurt, and besides a few dented cans, there wasn’t any damage, but none of that was the reason for Elide’s gasp.  She gasped because the man was Lorcan.  Lorcan, who had been shoved back into the cans, didn’t look hurt, but he didn’t look happy, either.  

The woman who crashed into him continued a string of apologies while Lorcan, with his long dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, stared her down like a stone wall.  His face was void of all emotion, and it scared the hell out of Elide.  She’d met him while he was pissed, which, safe to say, wasn’t the best emotion to display during a first impression, but at least it was an emotion.  This Lorcan, the one she shamelessly spied from across the grocery, was devoid of anything human. He looked so cold, so uncaring.  Elide tried to explain it away--maybe he just wasn’t a morning person--but instinct told her something different.  And since that innate instinct of hers had gotten her out of many a dire circumstance, she turned back around and stepped up to the register, pretending that she had never set eyes on Lorcan Salvaterre.

Elide quickly walked her groceries back home, limping slightly due to the stress the extra weight her bags added to her already precarious ankle, and after getting back into her apartment, quickly hobbled down to the laundry room.  Huffing out a hot burst of air out her nostrils at the sight of her neighbor’s wet apparel still in the washer, Elide’s hands curled into frustrated fists as she walked back up to her home.  It was moments like these that Elide wished she had an ounce of Manon’s assertion, or Aelin’s charm, or even Asterin’s ‘I don’t give a damn’ attitude.  Maybe if she had just one ounce of any of those characteristics, she’d have her laundry done by now.  

Forcing herself to take a deep, calming breath, Elide pushed the thought of laundry aside.  Wishing and hoping wouldn’t change her situation, she decided.  She needed to look at what she had before her and what she could do here and now.  So, with a hoard of plastic bags before her, Elide began to unpack her groceries and put everything in its rightful place.  Once she finished that small task, she began cleaning her apartment. Cleaning was good--cathartic, even.  It allowed Elide’s mind to empty and her body to go on autopilot.  She was able to unload and relax, and by the end of it, her mind and body usually felt as clean and uncluttered as her apartment.  

Today was a bit harder, thanks to the surprise appearance of Lorcan at the grocery store.  What he’d been doing there in the first place, Elide had half a mind to wonder.  It’d been over a month since Aelin’s party and Rowan’s dark haired friend hadn’t been brought up since that night at the bar.  But remembering that night at the bar--Rowan’s brusque disappearance, Aelin’s frowning mouth--led Elide to think of things like Maeve, and who she was to Lorcan and why, why, why . . .

No, she stubbornly told herself.  No, I will not wander down that path for it is dark and full of terrors. She shook her head with a sigh, she was definitely watching too much TV.

Rubbing at a worry line in her forehead, Elide cleaned up her cleaning supplies and looked at the time.  It was past two in the afternoon.  Surely her neighbor had fetched their clothes by now.  There was only so long one could forget about one’s laundry, after all.  Even on moving day.  So with a steely determination, Elide hobbled down into the basement and with baited breath, turned on the lights.  

And there, clear as day, was her neighbor’s laundry.  Untouched, undisturbed, and slightly smelling of mildew now.  Biting down on a shriek of rage that would make a banshee jealous, Elide turned heel and stomped--as best as her gimp ankle could stomp--back up the stairs.  Her uncle once said that if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, but damn if she wasn’t being carried by a stampede of wild stallions right then and there because right then and right there she slammed her fist three times against her neighbor’s door.

The hammering--that damn, rutting awful hammering--stopped and the door opened.  And there, standing across the threshold from her, was a shirtless and sweaty Lorcan.  Oh, fuck.

“Elide?”  Lorcan asked, his brows furrowing and his chest heaving deeply.  “What are you--?”

“Lorcan?”  She asked, almost reeling back from the shock of it.  Lorcan was her neighbor?  What were the odds?  He did mention moving to Rifthold last time they spoke, but, “You’re my neighbor?”  She asked, wanting to clarify.

He opened his mouth, about to respond, when a voice in the background called, “Lorcan?  Who is it it?”  The voice was deep and sultry, wild and ancient and utterly feminine.  A woman walked around the corner.  Her skin was marble white and her black hair darker than any Elide had ever seen before.  She was tall, too.  Taller than even Lorcan, with the figure meant to intimidate any and all genders. Elide knew, with every fiber of her being, that this was Maeve.  Nightmare made flesh, Aelin had said.  For once, she wasn’t being dramatic.

Maeve took one look at Elide, small, broken Elide and her red lips pulled back into a slight sneer.  “Who’s this?”

Once glance at Lorcan--with his mouth still agape and his skin turning ashen--and Elide could tell he wasn’t functioning properly.  Squaring her shoulders and mentally bracing herself, Elide looked the taller woman dead in the eye, “Elide Lochan.  Lorcan’s new neighbor.”

Lorcan’s head jerked and he snapped back into the present.  Maeve raised a brow and smirked down at Lorcan.  “Lorcan’s neighbor?”  She repeated, her voice like a stream flowing over rocks, “Don’t you mean ours?”

Elide blinked.  Once.  Twice.  She stopped herself before thrice.  “What?”  She asked, looking at Lorcan for all of two seconds before returning her gaze to Maeve’s.  

Maeve wrapped an arm around Lorcan’s shoulder, her long fingernails reminding Elide of claws.  “We’ve just moved in,” she said, deliberately slowly, as if speaking to a child, “together.”

“Oh,” Elide breathed, feeling for some reason as though she’d been sucker punched in the belly.  She needed a moment.  Her brows furrowed as her brain processed all this new information.  “Oh,” she repeated, and realized that although it’d been over a month ago, something deep inside of her had held on hope that Lorcan would reappear into her life and they would pick up where they left off.  It was stupid, but she’d kick herself for it later.  Later, and away from the all seeing eyes of Maeve.  Maeve, who was smiling down at her like Elide was a fly caught in her net and she couldn’t wait to devour her.  No.  No, no, no.  Elide knew a push when she saw it, and Maeve had pushed her.  And godsdammit, Elide was going to push back.  “Right,” she drawled, rolling her eyes.  “Thank you for informing me about relationship status, but I really didn’t ask.”

Maeve’s eyes narrowed, “What is it you want again?”

Smiling as sweetly and as innocently as possible, Elide tilted her head to the side and said, “I just wanted to let you know that your laundry is still taking up space in the washer and officially smells like shit.”  She turned to go, but then stopped herself and added, “Oh, and if you don’t collect it within the half hour, I’m throwing it all in the trash.  Welcome to the building!”

It was petty, and could possibly get her into a load of trouble down the line, but Maeve’s glare, and Lorcan’s look of pure astonishment definitely made it worth it.