Tag Archives: apartments

0 to 80

One of the perks of the apartment Bethany and I live in is that we don’t pay for heat. But we have discovered why. (At least in part.) If they actually made us pay for heat, they would also have to fix the heat settings. 

As it is, our apartment has two settings: icebox or sauna.

To get any heat to come out, you literally have to crank the dial past 80. And then it does its very best to comply. But turn it even a few notches to the left and the heat will turn off completely. 

A delicate balancing act emerges. Our new goal is to discover the secret of keeping it going just long enough to make the apartment comfortable, but not so long as to actually boil us alive. 


Apartments & Thailand!

Because I do not have enough on my plate right now*, my professor pointed out that if I’m going to Thailand next semester I should get on housing. 

And because I’m me, that means housing in Thailand just became my newest life obsession. I’ve been really enthusiastic and talked myself into multiple options at this point. And talked myself out. Or called my Dad to talk me out. Because what I really want to do is decide Right Now and have this Off My To Do List. Heck, if someone put a lease in front me I’d probably sign it without thinking twice. Let’s do this!

Thankfully, there do appear to be a lot of really great, safe options. I think I’ll win with whatever I decide on.

This study abroad trip has sort of been a mythical beast in my mind but looking at apartments makes it seem more real. 

Like, I might actually be going to Thailand. Ahhhhh!

 

* I realize sarcasm is the lowest form of humor, but it is that or insane, uncontrolled, despair-driven laughter so I feel this is the better choice. 


Apartment Tours

The carpet screams ’70s. The couch and dining room table look like they might be from the same era. 

“I provide all the furnishings free!” announces the chipper landlord for the fifth time in five minutes. “That’s mine…” he points to the large, tarnished lamp, “and that…” This time the cheap desk – a surprisingly modern-looking addition to the room. 

I smile and nod, trying to imagine myself in this ugly little space. Would a rug make the room more cheerful? Could I talk him into a fresh coat of paint?

“And this is the oven!” the landlord opens the little, brown box with a flair it hasn’t seen in decades. “Help yourself, help yourself.”

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to help myself to. The current tenant’s pots and pans? 

He moves on, pointing out the concrete ceiling and floor, the furnishings (he provides them all for free!), and the closets. 

“Help yourself! Help yourself!” 

The place is gross; grit and grime cover every surface not filled by the current tenant’s possessions. I wonder if it can all be blamed on the tenant. The room looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in years. 

“I’m the owner and manager,” says the landlord, as if reading my mind. “I do all the repairs. I’m here twice a week.” 

Doing what? I think but don’t say. I want to like this place. It falls within my budget and comes with furniture so I don’t have to figure out buying and storing furniture for a semester. He also will let me sublease – a handy option considering I’ve decided to study abroad next year. 

I can put up with anything for 5 months. But do I even want to think about how filthy the couch is? 

5 months feels like a very, very long time. Good thing I have another place to tour tomorrow. I don’t have high hopes, though!