The "S" Word
Hmm. I guess I should just accept the fact that I'm going to be one of those people who sporadically update their blogs. That way I don't have to keep starting entries with words like "hiatus" or "been" or "while" or "cheesecake."
This is largely due to the fact that I don't spend very much time on the 'puter anymore. Well...yeah. I guess I still spend a stupidly ginormous amount of time here than the average person does, but compared to how I used to be...not so much. It is also partly due to the fact that I try not to discuss my life here. This leaves me with surprisingly little to talk about.
As I am horribly sick of writing about video games here (words I never thought I would utter in that order), I think I'll start lifting that ban a bit. This is largely due to the fact that I want to rant about something.
I was on vacation last week. Officially, anyway. Some time ago, my sister and her husband gave birth to two little girls; my nieces. Last week -- my last week of vacation for the year -- was meant to go down to Georgia and visit them. After my last pre-vacation day of work had ended, I headed home to grab my already packed bags and start my journey.
As I walked in the door, the glorious sight of my bathroom ceiling, brown and dripping with water, was presented to me by the physical manifestation of Evil itself. Needless to say, my trip was ruined.
However, I figured that I could use my vacation (which could not be moved or altered at that point) to at least get the damn ceiling fixed while I was home. So, the next day, I called the Association of my condo.
The next two and a half days consisted of me constantly calling my representative at the Association back, usually after she promised she would get back to me. The phone calls consisted of trying to figure out exactly what was causing the ceiling to get wet, what would be required to fix it, and who would be responsible for fixing it.
Also during these two and a half days, my insurance agent let me know that they don't cover ceilings. They only cover floors and walls. However, while they wouldn't pay for the repairs to the ceiling (the expensive part), they would pay for the paint required to repaint the ceiling (the cheap part). The paint for the ceiling that my insurance doesn't cover. That ceiling.
Eventually, it was determined that it couldn't be my responsibility to fix for reasons I won't go into. Now it was down to the Association or the people living above me as far as potential payers for repairs went.
A call was placed to the people above me. They said there was no leak in their bathroom as it had just been renovated. The Association thought the water may have been a result of a small leak in the building's roof, so they sent out a maintenance person to check it out.
The maintenance person, who I'm glad to mention was from a third, outside party hired by our building, took one look at my ceiling and said that there was absolutely, positively no doubt that the water came from the people above me and that it came from their bathtub. He then went into a five minute, completely way-too-detailed explanation for why he had reached this conclusion. I decided the man liked his job too much.
The maintenance person also happened to mention that he had actually been sent to check out both of our units; my and my neigbors'. The neigbors, who assure us nothing is wrong with their bathroom, refused to let him in. They also refused to answer the door the few times I tried to visit them earlier as well. Despite the fact that I could literally hear their voices on the other side of the door.
This was the short version of the story, of course. By this time my vacation was over and completely wasted on a variety of levels. The maintenance person said he would get back in touch with the Association, tell him what he found, and they would get back to me about the next step to take.
Yesterday, after receiving no word from the Association, I called my contact back. She said the maintanence guy had never called her back, so she would call him. She'd give me a call back today, if not yesterday.
She never got back to me. Yesterday or today.
I'm telling this story because I want everyone to learn something from it. A moral, if you will. The moral of this yet unfinished story is quite simple:
People fucking suck.
Despite all of this, though, the past week was a sort of interesting one "life-wise." Sitting around at home all week waiting for people that fucking suck to get in contact with you gives you a lot of time to think about a lot of things. And so I did. I didn't really "realize" anything or have any sort of epiphanies, but it was the first time in a few years that I really sat down and thought about myself and the direction I was heading in life. It was...well, interesting. Like I said.
Especially since it resulted in me deciding to grow a goatee.
This is largely due to the fact that I don't spend very much time on the 'puter anymore. Well...yeah. I guess I still spend a stupidly ginormous amount of time here than the average person does, but compared to how I used to be...not so much. It is also partly due to the fact that I try not to discuss my life here. This leaves me with surprisingly little to talk about.
As I am horribly sick of writing about video games here (words I never thought I would utter in that order), I think I'll start lifting that ban a bit. This is largely due to the fact that I want to rant about something.
I was on vacation last week. Officially, anyway. Some time ago, my sister and her husband gave birth to two little girls; my nieces. Last week -- my last week of vacation for the year -- was meant to go down to Georgia and visit them. After my last pre-vacation day of work had ended, I headed home to grab my already packed bags and start my journey.
As I walked in the door, the glorious sight of my bathroom ceiling, brown and dripping with water, was presented to me by the physical manifestation of Evil itself. Needless to say, my trip was ruined.
However, I figured that I could use my vacation (which could not be moved or altered at that point) to at least get the damn ceiling fixed while I was home. So, the next day, I called the Association of my condo.
The next two and a half days consisted of me constantly calling my representative at the Association back, usually after she promised she would get back to me. The phone calls consisted of trying to figure out exactly what was causing the ceiling to get wet, what would be required to fix it, and who would be responsible for fixing it.
Also during these two and a half days, my insurance agent let me know that they don't cover ceilings. They only cover floors and walls. However, while they wouldn't pay for the repairs to the ceiling (the expensive part), they would pay for the paint required to repaint the ceiling (the cheap part). The paint for the ceiling that my insurance doesn't cover. That ceiling.
Eventually, it was determined that it couldn't be my responsibility to fix for reasons I won't go into. Now it was down to the Association or the people living above me as far as potential payers for repairs went.
A call was placed to the people above me. They said there was no leak in their bathroom as it had just been renovated. The Association thought the water may have been a result of a small leak in the building's roof, so they sent out a maintenance person to check it out.
The maintenance person, who I'm glad to mention was from a third, outside party hired by our building, took one look at my ceiling and said that there was absolutely, positively no doubt that the water came from the people above me and that it came from their bathtub. He then went into a five minute, completely way-too-detailed explanation for why he had reached this conclusion. I decided the man liked his job too much.
The maintenance person also happened to mention that he had actually been sent to check out both of our units; my and my neigbors'. The neigbors, who assure us nothing is wrong with their bathroom, refused to let him in. They also refused to answer the door the few times I tried to visit them earlier as well. Despite the fact that I could literally hear their voices on the other side of the door.
This was the short version of the story, of course. By this time my vacation was over and completely wasted on a variety of levels. The maintenance person said he would get back in touch with the Association, tell him what he found, and they would get back to me about the next step to take.
Yesterday, after receiving no word from the Association, I called my contact back. She said the maintanence guy had never called her back, so she would call him. She'd give me a call back today, if not yesterday.
She never got back to me. Yesterday or today.
I'm telling this story because I want everyone to learn something from it. A moral, if you will. The moral of this yet unfinished story is quite simple:
People fucking suck.
Despite all of this, though, the past week was a sort of interesting one "life-wise." Sitting around at home all week waiting for people that fucking suck to get in contact with you gives you a lot of time to think about a lot of things. And so I did. I didn't really "realize" anything or have any sort of epiphanies, but it was the first time in a few years that I really sat down and thought about myself and the direction I was heading in life. It was...well, interesting. Like I said.
Especially since it resulted in me deciding to grow a goatee.