Updating The Madness…

I really hate not being able to post. Unfortunately, my rollercoaster ride of a life just gets in the way. And then, when I do get it together enough to sit down and “creatively vent” as this blog was intended, my ever-freezing PC often just refuses to cooperate. So, I’m left with my thoughts and my ideas crashing together and piling up, like so many cars on an iced over Michigan freeway. Sigh…

At any rate, one big thing I so wanted to post about was my Ohio State Buckeyes becoming the 1st College Football National Champions of the new playoff era on Monday night…

Go Bucks!

My elation was, however, short-lived, knowing that my nightmare living conditions hadn’t changed one little bit. You know, the fat-assed elephant squatting all over my apartment…

Anyway, I had my 2nd (and hopefully last) extermination treatment on Tuesday – one that required me to be out of my apartment for at least 4 hours (with no car, and pretty much nowhere to go except the “Bowling Palace” about a mile away). The thing is, considering my suspicion that the bugs were coming from one of the neighboring apartments and that a treatment that didn’t include the entire building would simply push the problem from apartment to apartment rather than eliminating it, I had to wonder, as I walked off into the bitter cold, whether it was even worth the risk to my health the walk represented.

Well the good news is that I haven’t seen any bugs since the treatment and, after I called the rental office to ask about the exterminator’s charges, I got the slightly better news that I wouldn’t be charged at all since my apartment wasn’t the source of the problem. “Wait… What? Um, okay. Thank you?” I was so stunned and relieved that I wouldn’t have to find a way to come up with the cash that the implications didn’t immediately sink in. So, as asked, I promised to call if I had further problems and simply hung up the phone.

Which is when I remembered the neighbors. You know, my trailer-trash neighbors, who’s kids, considering all the screaming, stomping around, and slamming into walls, have apparently never been taught that you should behave differently inside your apartment than you do on the playground? You know, the neighbors, who’s kids (though we couldn’t prove it) damaged my son’s car so badly by ripping out wires from under the dashboard and pouring dirt in his gas tank that he had to have it dragged off to a junkyard? You know, the same damned trailer-trash neighbors that I’ve been complaining to that rental office about for months?!?!

Well, I called the office back, reminded them of my prior complaints, and asked them straight up if those neighbors were in fact the source of this new nightmare. I don’t know if it was because they just aren’t sure, if it was because they were covering their asses over potential “privacy” related issues, or if it was because the lady on the phone detected how hard I was struggling to keep the seething rage out of my voice, but, whatever the reason, a “possibly” was all the answer I was able to get. She did, however, remind me that the complex has a “3 strikes policy” and that, provided there is adequate proof, residents with a record of disturbing the peace can be evicted. Hmm…

Well my friends, no more Mr. Nice Guy. I plan to call in a complaint every single time those assholes piss me off, and I’m even going to talk to the neighbors on the other side of them to suggest they do the same!

I used to be such a sweet, sweet thing – ‘Til they got a hold of me
I opened doors for little old ladies – I helped the blind to see
I got no friends ’cause they read the papers – They can’t be seen with me
And I’m gettin’ real shot down – And I’m feeling mean

No more Mister Nice Guy!
No more Mister Clean!
No more Mister Nice Guy!
They say he’s sick, he’s obscene!

– Alice Cooper

Well, I must say that getting that off my chest felt really good. Better yet, “my little friend” didn’t freeze up even once in the 3 hours it took me to do so! 😉

I want ice water.

More from the My Life volume