What a week.
This has easily been the worst week of 2015 thus far. If I believed in karma, I would think this past week was some sort of karmic balance, making up for getting a Camaro last week. If I were the type of Jew to take the Torah literally, I would think the plagues of Egypt were being visited upon my cramped little Chicago slum apartment. So far I've been visited by the plagues of disease, bad luck, and malicious landlords.
I've been sick as a dog for most of the past week. Chills, coughing up round after round of junk from my respiratory tract, and the occasional asthma attack have made it an especially shitty sickness. I suspect I brought it upon myself by letting my apartment get nasty, but it could also be something I picked up on the south side of town - the car dealership was full of snot-nosed kids, and who knows how many of their parents were anti-vaxer loons.
The "plague of bad luck" happened on Wednesday at about 1am. I stepped out into the hall to pick up a food delivery, barefoot and with only my Grandpa's old swiss army knife in my pocket... and reflexively closed and locked the door behind me. My landlords claim to have a 24 hour emergency hotline for building maintenance, so I borrowed the delivery guy's cell phone and left a message. An hour later, I realized they weren't coming. Now, I might have been content to catch a few Zs in the hall and wait for morning if not for one very important detail: I was technically "at work" until 8am and had to be available to handle support tickets! Fear of getting fired overrode my fear of damaging my own apartment; I pulled out the swiss army knife and got to work. I spent the next four hours or so cutting a hole in the door big enough to stick my hand through and unlock it from the inside. By the time I got back in I was sore, sneezing, covered in sawdust, and thoroughly pissed off. My coworkers were very understanding, and were outraged on my behalf when I told them what had happened.
This leads directly into the plague of scummy landlords. A full day after my little adventure, I finally get a call from the management company. This wasn't checking in on me, making sure I was OK, or anything, but an idiotic "Durr, did you know somebody drilled a hole in your door?" call. I really let them have it at that point, giving their representative on the phone a verbal lashing. (On a side note, it boosted my masculine pride a bit to think I'd done enough damage with a pocket knife for them to think power tools were involved.) The next morning I found a note outside my door notifying the tenants of a "routine inspection" that would be taking place next week. This is noteworthy because I've been here coming up on a full year without any such inspections taking place - it smells like a cheap pressure tactic.
So, that has been my miserable week. On the plus side, I got this fancy new set of wheels and there's lovely spring weather outside.