n Saturday, I spent the day with my neighbor, Candy. Yes, that’s her real name and I think it’s adorable.
Well, anyway. We topped the day of shopping off at her place where we ate ice cream sundaes and watched the last two episodes of The Vampire Diaries, which I’m afraid I might sink into if I’m not careful. Although, now that Mad Men is complete until next year, maybe I could indulge…
I digress! Hanging out with Candy on Saturday gave me the opportunity to do two things I love: eat ice cream and compare my place to other people’s. And, sadly, I have to admit…my apartment is sorely lacking compared to Candy’s.
You see, she’s got a one-bedroom, and I have a bachelor, so I inherently have less space than she does, but it just feels like she’s done a better job with hers than I have with mine. Not only has she painted the walls (a task I can only dream of now, due to its enormity), but her place is immaculate. Spotless. She owns a dog! Yet, there’s no hair ANYWHERE.
And not only that, she’s been able to get things done in her place, where as I feel like I’m not really getting what I need from my superintendents. Case in point: my heat has been off for weeks. Last year, the boilers weren’t switched on until late into autumn, so I assumed the same thing was happening this year, but one morning I woke up to a cold apartment and it was seven degrees Celsius outside. That was when I knew something was wrong.
So, inspired by Candy’s no-nonsense approach to the supers, I took matters into my own hands and called each day over the weekend, and this morning. Finally, the supers responded and told me that someone would come into my unit today. So, who knows, maybe I’ll have heat this evening?
It sounds graver than it is—it’s just been chilly these past few weeks, but nothing a good sweater and a pair of socks couldn’t fix. But now that I’ve taken a stand for myself, I’m going to commit to being a bigger gnat than I was. I pay hundreds of dollars a month to live in a century-old apartment that BARELY looks like it survived that century. And from what I’ve seen at Candy’s place, I don’t have to settle for that.
Mark my words: I don’t plan to.