It could very well be argued that I tend to be an optimistic person. I used to be much more so; however, there is a cynical realist living inside me that came along around the time I was eighteen. Yet I more often than not, I am delighted to find that the heart of an optimist still beats within me, as was exemplified today.
Not that I am ever particularly thrilled to get up at 4 am for work, and I will admit that, like many, a small part of my brain will wish for a blizzard or an MTA strike to prevent me from a guilt-free day off (yet that would cause much more havoc than necessary, and like I said, it is a small part of my brain). However, I do not favor dealing with household annoyances as a way of missing a day of work. Today was a day of stress and hassle, and I have to admit, I might have preferred to feel these emotions in the workplace rather than the (dis)comfort of my own home. Let me explain. I awoke before the crack of dawn to the sound of dripping. Already I was concerned. Our apartment is known for some leaks and spills, but nothing that has ever been too severe. Yet as the morning continued (is that considered morning? 4 am? I suppose so), water from the ice storm outside seemed to be advancing into the beloved hovel that I call my room. A strange arrangement of mixing bowls and towels later, I was reading my book, pausing every 20 minutes to empty the bowls (yes, that often), and calling my job to tell them I'd be waiting around for the super to give me some sort of solution. Upon waking up from a cat nap around 8:30, I found that the water had started to invade more than I felt appropriate, and I began moving out of my room. Seriously. I now reside in the living room, and I am lucky to live with such an amazing woman that I will certainly be tolerated...but for how long? A few visits and phone calls with various people connected to the apartment gave me little to no information and help...my mom had more advice and knowledge than all of these people put together. Add that to the no-show that was supposed to come an hour ago, and you have yourself a pretty frustrated girl. There is water dripping from a third of my ceiling, bubbles of water stretching the paint in the outer wall, not to mention my sad dirty curtains and floor. I have managed to save everything else. I wonder when the management company and the people they deem appropriate to fix things around here will be able to get to work. Man, I love renting. Fuck this, seriously.
And yet.
Here are some of the thoughts that persuade my brain not to feel so angry...
- At least I have a home to worry about. I have shelter. I am safe.
- I will really get to achieve some Spring Cleaning now that my room is nearly cleared out! Granted, I have no idea when I'll be able to bring my stuff back in there, certainly not until I feel assured that the likelihood of moving it out again has slightly diminished; nonetheless, it will be fun to reorganize, as I am a freak and love to do that.
- My organizational skills have allowed me to do a kick ass job of fitting my things as discreetly as possible into the other rooms of the apartment. At least, I think so. We shall see what the roommate thinks, haha.
- This happened when I was still at home to take care of it...it did mean calling out of work; HOWEVER, if it had started while I was out of the building, I would have come home to ruined books and mementos and many other belongings. Now if it leaks again, it will merely leak into bowls and a fixable bed-frame and a floor.
Anyway...the list could go on, I'm sure. I do hope this gets fixed soon, don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to be Susie Sunshine (what?) about it, because that's annoying. The situation definitely sucks, I will not lie. But in times such as these it is good to keep those other things in mind. And to remember that New York is a very old city with very old buildings, and I would be hard-pressed to find one with a complete absence of water problems. Especially at the price I pay, haha.
I have included some photos, for those of you who want to laugh at how tiny a New York City apartment can be. I prefer to think of my bedroom as cozy rather than small or cell-like; although at the moment it is just empty and wet.
[amanda]
title lyrics - Sunray by Brenda Weiler
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