Monday April 19, 2004
On the hot water front, there was still none after the first bit of tinkering. I called again. More conferring has not given us hot water. Yet. Tomorrow the 10+ year old tank is being replaced with a brand spanking new one. I hope it doesn't decide to run away when it sees the utility room neighbourhood.
I discovered and documented the fact that, sometime in the last few days, coin operated laundry machines were deposited into the middle of the fire hazard rich environment in the utility room. Since I could easily and distinctly hear the popping of the sediment on the bottom of the about to be retired water heater through the kitchen (aka "back") door of my apartment, this new development is a mixed blessing. But it may be the reason for a big leap toward meeting safety and building standards here at the slum. I realized this afternoon that the installation of the required outlet for the dryer may be the catalyst for updating of the electrical system. Fingers crossed.
There's even a bike rack, albeit not the most confidence inspiring, but it's a start. The rack is currently situated on the grass between the two slum buildings, a space that is about 12 feet wide. The bike that used to be locked to the gas line is locked to it already. Yes, I know, I know. Other people's thought processes are extremely mysterious to me at times.
I went to get poked today, too. And it hurt for the first time in a long time. "The alcohol wasn't dry yet, I guess." Really. More odd thought patterns: After she'd explained to me that the burning was probably due to alcohol remaining on the needle and that that was odd because she usually knows how long it takes for that to happen, I said that it didn't usually hurt, which was why I mentioned it when it did. Well, that and I was already more stressed than usual. Are you ready for the response? Really? It is where the title of this post comes in.
"That [my remarking on the pain today] proves I do know how long to wait." Really? How about another explanation... like most of the time I get the other lab person. Yeah, that's what I should have said, but I didn't have enough energy to do more than mentally note the lameness.
Therein lies the silver lining of my being ill - I don't have the energy to argue unless it's really worth it. Too bad you aren't here to enjoy it, huh? ;)
Bean soup, bouillabaisse, actually, is simmering. Don't worry, it mainly takes time, not a lot of effort. Aside from some opening of cans (only two), chopping and sauteing of onion and peeling of shrimp, all I did was empty a bean mix into the pot. I made this a lot when I lived in Virginia and North Carolina, but only found a local merchant who stocks it recently.
I ran into another tenant in the building this afternoon. After our longer than we both intended chat wound down, I promised to post some tenant links and a page/item about commonly misheld beliefs about tenant rights that are habitually stomped on by landlords here in Kingston.
I don't have first hand knowledge of this last accusation, but I was told of an imminent infraction of the Tenant Protection Act by one who was present when the illegal requirement was voiced, so I still stand by my claim. In fact, if tenants don't know what their rights are under the Act, a claim on their part that they have never had their rights violated is without merit in my books. Kind of like someone saying they never speed when in fact they don't even know what limit is in effect.
The rest of this night will be spent on getting the soup done, eating some (yum!) and putting something useful on the site for a change. It won't be pretty, but it will be a start.
0) { ?>