My wife and I renewed our apartment lease today. Now before you start breaking out the champagne and confetti poppers, let me be perfectly clear in assuring you that this is no cause for celebration. I’ve come to realize over the course of my life that I’m possibly one of the laziest people in the world, and it is for that reason that we signed on the dotted line this afternoon, opting to spend another year in this apartment rather than go through the hassle of moving. In the town we moved to a year ago, there are several different areas that I would prefer to live in over where we do now, and it wouldn’t be much of a price difference if there was any at all, so money really wasn’t a deciding factor. We would however have to spend a day lugging furniture down the stairs of our second story apartment, then subsequently taking them back up stairs at our new place, and for us, that was the deal breaker. Maybe over the next year we can psyche ourselves up to the challenge by the time our new lease expires, but until then, we’re stuck here.
This is the place that told us, the day we sat down to sign our lease, after days spent dreaming of grilling burgers and steaks on our balcony in the summer, that grills were now prohibited in the apartment complex, because a resident set fire to one of the units. People ruin everything. This is the place that left a letter outside my door, fining me for the Grizzlies flag I had hanging off of my balcony, citing the section in my lease that prohibits debris from being left outside. We’ve had animals scratching inside our walls for as long as I can remember, and recently heard them beneath our bathtub, which the management company assured us that we’re not the only residents who have complained about it, as if that was supposed to make me feel better about the whole ordeal.
The day we moved in last July we noted all of the deficiencies in our apartment, and gave a detailed list of what needed to be fixed, the whole in the closet ceiling and the electrical outlets not working, among other things, that still have not been taken care of. Our water has been turned off on numerous occasions, oftentimes without warning, which happens to be really inconvenient when you need to take a shower before work, but we signed up for another year of this madness any way. I suppose there are some good aspects about the apartment, the close proximity to the park, and the trash seems to be picked up on a regular basis unlike the apartment complex across the street whose dumpsters are overflowing with trash all over the ground every time that we drive by, but as I sit here in my bedroom writing, burning up because the vents in our room aren’t working, I’m finding it a little difficult to be positive. Maybe things will get better, or perhaps they won’t. Only time will tell.