Saturday, June 23, 2012

Dear My Period,

Imagine my chagrin when I happened to take a peek at my period tracker thing to find that you were scheduled to arrive on the move day. Like I really needed something else to worry about when I'm venturing back into the fun-filled world of Los Angeles area traffic.

And even though you rarely arrive on your scheduled day, I do appreciate that you waited until today, when I finally unpacked enough boxes to find some tampons.


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Dear People Who Did The Packing,

1) I appreciate that even though you were specifically instructed to leave the clothes (INCLUDING MY UNDERWEAR) in the drawers and just move the dressers as is, you decided to pack all the clothes that were in the drawers (INCLUDING MY UNDERWEAR).

2) I really appreciate that I had to go through no less than 8 boxes of stuff marked simply "Kitchen/Glassware" to actually find a single glass or plate. Every time I've moved, I've done a shitty job of marking boxes, but it's not, you know, my JOB or something I'm being paid to do. You might as well just have marked everything as "stuff". Because of your shitty labeling, I'm still unable to find the dish drainer, my embroidery stuff and the bathroom trash cans.


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That being said, it's strange and nice to live in a house where more than the bare minimum maintenance has been performed - we now have windows that are double-paned and open because they aren't sealed shut with years of mold, toilets that flush, a garbage disposal, a refrigerator that hasn't yet frozen the stuff on the top shelf and no constant smell of mildew... in retrospect, it kind of seems like my crazy-ass landlord just might have been a slumlord. I used to write it off as him being European and being raised in a poor-ish Community country (it was no good to even ask him about repairing something until it was 200% broken - one of the bathrooms developed a leak, the hot water thing wouldn't turn off and he wouldn't even come over to look at it until the dripping turned into a steady stream), but I think the dude might have just been cheap.

Labels: first world problems, letter to, pointless whining