apartment life.

Remember that time I cleaned my kitchen?  Well, it turns out I shouldn't have spent any time mopping the floors.  A measly two days later the whole thing flooded.  :(

That's right.  Let me tell you a story... oh, and this is the long version, btw.

For about a week out garbage disposal had been acting weird.  We thought maybe there was something stuck in it.  Nope.  Then we thought maybe it needed to be reset.  Nope.  So we called the apartment maintenance to come take a look and what do ya know... it worked perfectly the whole time he was here!  Seriously.  The next morning?  Nothing.  Not even a grinding whirrr-clunk-clunk from that thing!  But whatever.  John's in charge of doing the dishes.  Let him figure it out.

Fast-forward to Monday [post kitchen cleaning].  I woke up earlier than I normally would for an 11 o'clock shift and decided to run the dishwasher.  I was so proud of myself, thinking I'm so clever to do this and I'm such a good little house wife.  Um, yeah.  No.  An hour later I decide I want some toast before heading to work and there's at least an inch of water in my kitchen.  [Thankfully, no chunks of slimy food.]  So I do a little bit of a crazy panic dance, trying to mop up a dishwasher's worth of water with two little rags.

Five full-size towels later...  the floor was relatively dry.  There was probably some still behind the stove and maybe the fridge, but I can't move those.  So I call the apartment office.  Tell them my kitchen is trying to drive me crazy, and can they please take a look at my most-likely-clogged-dishwasher, oh, and by the way our garbage disposal seems to have given up on life.

All is well, right?  Nope.  Monday night I tried to turn on the hall light and failed.  I tried changing the light bulbs.  Nothing.  The light in the laundry closet won't work either.  So I can't do laundry, obviously.  Want to know how long it took me to finally drag my butt over to the breaker box and flip the switch.  Four days.  It would have been longer if we'd had more clean underwear.

The moral of the story is this:  Living in an apartment is great when everything you touch starts falling apart.  All the horrible, mean, resentful feelings I've had about this place were turned a lighter shade of black.  Apartment living definitely has its perks.

Don't get me wrong.  It's still my dream to be on pretty much any house-buying show on HGTV.  [Property Brothers is our #1 pick!!]