Too Early
I've been up since just after five with a sick cat, which is worrisome and unfun in the extreme. Watching reruns of Angel, which I haven't seen in a very long time (primarily because they air it at six in the damn morning), and being a little weirded out by seeing a non-Booth David Boreanaz. My neck hurts and I already have a sinus headache. Soon I may venture into the kitchen to see what breakfast options exist beyond cold pizza or antique Pop Tarts.
We moved, did I tell you guys that? Literally across the street. Things were escalating with our previous downstairs neighbor--I've mentioned this before, right? I've been so remiss in updating here that I can't actually remember. If not, here's a recap: our (now, mercifully, former) downstairs neighbor was a handicapped shut-in, which is unfortunate, and apparently incontinent, which is also unfortunate, but produced a mighty stench the like of which I have never personally experienced before in far too many years on this earth. When the guy would open his door a great cloud of it would roil out, an indescribable miasma of urine-ammonia and eye-watering unidentifiable chemicals (no lie, when we first smelled it we thought he had a meth lab going in there or something, it was that bad), so powerful that it was chokingly bad all the way out into the middle of the parking lot. That was appalling, but bearable, because at least it was outside and it would dissipate; but then that stench began creeping its way into our apartment. First it would occasionally come up into the kitchen cabinet under the sink, traveling (one assumes) through the gaps in the flooring around the pipes; that was gross, but tolerable, because I don't spend that much time with my head stuck in the cabinet under the sink. Then the smell began to appear in the corner of the kitchen beside the refrigerator, just a little. THEN the complex decided to remove all the carpet from the guy's apartment and install vinyl throughout; and that's when it became unbearable upstairs. Rather than just using his noxious cleaning agents or whatever-they-are on the small vinyl floored sections of kitchen and bathroom, he was now free to splash the shit liberally all around the apartment; and in short order, the stench began to come up through our utility closet, whereupon it was wafted into the vents and then neatly distributed around our home. Imagine the smell of a poorly maintained nursing facility, or the foulest unclean gas station restroom you've ever been in, and you'll get the idea. Unlivable. Nauseating. Unbearable.
(The poor bastard was also hard of hearing, so he'd occasionally turn his TV on and up to such a volume that we could hear it clearly over our own TV upstairs. Did I mention that?)
So now we've got a ground floor apartment across the street, an upgraded unit, and it is quiet and smells nicely of fresh paint. Once in a while we hear the floor creak a bit when the guy upstairs walks around, but that's it. Oh, and I even have a bit of a yard beyond my patio, and the previous tenant planted irises which are now coming up. The view is just as nice as the one I had before, and while I miss being upstairs and having a nice secluded balcony, I like it here. I am pleased.
Not much else to report. Bones has done such an about-face after the abomination that was most of season six that I find I have very little to complain about. The downside to that is that there isn't as much fanfic being written, presumably because the actual writers are now essentially writing fanfic and thus there's nothing left for the fans to fix. This is in no way a bad thing.
We moved, did I tell you guys that? Literally across the street. Things were escalating with our previous downstairs neighbor--I've mentioned this before, right? I've been so remiss in updating here that I can't actually remember. If not, here's a recap: our (now, mercifully, former) downstairs neighbor was a handicapped shut-in, which is unfortunate, and apparently incontinent, which is also unfortunate, but produced a mighty stench the like of which I have never personally experienced before in far too many years on this earth. When the guy would open his door a great cloud of it would roil out, an indescribable miasma of urine-ammonia and eye-watering unidentifiable chemicals (no lie, when we first smelled it we thought he had a meth lab going in there or something, it was that bad), so powerful that it was chokingly bad all the way out into the middle of the parking lot. That was appalling, but bearable, because at least it was outside and it would dissipate; but then that stench began creeping its way into our apartment. First it would occasionally come up into the kitchen cabinet under the sink, traveling (one assumes) through the gaps in the flooring around the pipes; that was gross, but tolerable, because I don't spend that much time with my head stuck in the cabinet under the sink. Then the smell began to appear in the corner of the kitchen beside the refrigerator, just a little. THEN the complex decided to remove all the carpet from the guy's apartment and install vinyl throughout; and that's when it became unbearable upstairs. Rather than just using his noxious cleaning agents or whatever-they-are on the small vinyl floored sections of kitchen and bathroom, he was now free to splash the shit liberally all around the apartment; and in short order, the stench began to come up through our utility closet, whereupon it was wafted into the vents and then neatly distributed around our home. Imagine the smell of a poorly maintained nursing facility, or the foulest unclean gas station restroom you've ever been in, and you'll get the idea. Unlivable. Nauseating. Unbearable.
(The poor bastard was also hard of hearing, so he'd occasionally turn his TV on and up to such a volume that we could hear it clearly over our own TV upstairs. Did I mention that?)
So now we've got a ground floor apartment across the street, an upgraded unit, and it is quiet and smells nicely of fresh paint. Once in a while we hear the floor creak a bit when the guy upstairs walks around, but that's it. Oh, and I even have a bit of a yard beyond my patio, and the previous tenant planted irises which are now coming up. The view is just as nice as the one I had before, and while I miss being upstairs and having a nice secluded balcony, I like it here. I am pleased.
Not much else to report. Bones has done such an about-face after the abomination that was most of season six that I find I have very little to complain about. The downside to that is that there isn't as much fanfic being written, presumably because the actual writers are now essentially writing fanfic and thus there's nothing left for the fans to fix. This is in no way a bad thing.