Evil slumlord strikes again . . .

I was woken this morning by a knock at my door. It was my evil slumlord. She wanted a favor. She asked if some workers could plug a sander into one of the outlets in my apartment. I was half dressed and peeking my head through the door. It was 7:45 am, Monday, I had not had any coffee yet and the heat in the house had been off all weekend. This was not a good time for that bitch to ask me for a favor.

And, wait a second, did you say a SANDER?? Oh, it seems she is going to have the floors refinished in the apartment DIRECTLY ABOVE MINE. A little notice might be, I don’t know, nice? Grrrrr. And, I pay for that electricity and I didn’t hear you offer me anything for the trouble or offer to pay part of my bill. Needless to say, I declined the favor, let her know that she as much of a right to enter my apartment without my consent as does a person off the street, and informed her that I was going to call the authorities the next time she turned our heat off in the winter. The first time it happened was in a snowstorm and I was forced to take a bat to the locked plastic box that covered the thermostat (mission accomplished, I shattered it) in order to turn it back on. Luckily it has yet to be replaced.

My day has gotten better due to an obscene amount of lattes and cream filled donuts. I will now fire off a hateful letter to send in with my rent check. Bitch.