September 6, 2011
I've never rented an apartment from anyone other than a private homeowner.
So dealing with the company that owns Mer's apartment has been an entirely new experience for me.
And not one I've enjoyed so far.
At all.
If not dealing with the incompetence of the person who claims to manage Mer's building, I am running back and forth to the city "headquarters" of the company trying to figure out how come the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing.
Last week, amid my numerous visits to their office about the incompetent building manager, I asked what, in exact numbers, her rent would be for September 1st.
Exact numbers.
I was told $725.00.
Hence, I made sure that was what was in my account.
Even a bit more.
But not enough, apparently.
Because they tried to take out $750.00.
Ergo, an NSF fee in my account.
A $42.50 NSF fee.
And then another from the rental agency for $25.00.
Oh, I so don't think so.
So this morning, I am going to get a money order for the rent, for $682.50.
Which is, for those of you who can do math, $725.00 - $42.50.
Because I am not absorbing an NSF fee that wasn't my fault.
And they can reverse their NSF $25.00.
There may be fireworks this morning over on Parkside Drive.
In fact, I imagine there will be, as I will not be leaving without I want.
Imagine that.
Part of yesterday was spent in my office in an attempt to prepare for the beginning of the term.
As in beginning Thursday.
I have one syllabus all done, another almost done except for the final read over, the third almost there, and the fourth, the class where I've assigned a new book for me and them, not even close.
Meaning after my tete-a-tete with the rental agency, I will be heading back to the computer to hammer out the details, the minutaie, that will shape how my students experience their time with me this term.
And how I experience them.
A little bit later. . . .
My dealings with the rental agency went a lot smoother than I anticipated.
There were no recriminations, no arguments, no refusals.
Good thing.
Because I routinely harbour enough frustration to blow at any given moment.
Now, as a result of my visit, the rental agency regional director will be making a visit to Mer's apartment.
Tomorrow.
Just enough time for Mer to get her apartment cleaned up and looking more like a place someone would like to rent and less like a cave inhabited by Neanderthals.
I was over there yesterday, but never got past the door.
Not unusual for Mer to not want me to see how much like a tip her apartment looks like.
Our vacuum was waiting for us in the hallway outside her apartment.
My first sign she didn't want me in there.
Her meeting me at the threshold of the door was sign number two.
Blocking me from entering and only speaking with me in the hallway, sign number three.
At which point I just accepted that I was not going to be admitted into Chez Mer, so we collected the vacuum, Jasper and left.
Bet I'd be allowed in today.
Jasper seems to be adjusting well.
Last night was better than I had expected.
Meaning no furry friends lost any blood or are sporting any scratches today.
At this moment, Jasper is laying on one side of Stephen, Dibley on the other, as Stephen watches the news.
Frankie attempted to go over and say a hello to Jasper, but was rebuked with such hissing and arching of the back that Frankie immediately returned to my side, giving me a plaintive look, trying to understand how come his friendly overtures weren't welcomed.
Tikka just walked over, barked at Jazz and walked away.
Apparently, she doesn't seem to feel the need to make friends.
Em begins her driver's ed road training this evening, 6.00 pm.
Other than a lead foot and being a bit harsh on the brake, she doesn't really have any driving issues.
Well, perhaps a bit of an attitude.
But chances are the driving instructors won't be able to do anything about that.
Too bad.
I'd pay extra for that.
Title Lyric: Clean by Depeche Mode
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