with the fire of a thousand suns
I hate our apartment.
I hate our apartment.
I hate our apartment.
Tried to do some "spring cleaning" this afternoon. Weeding through our books, kitchen things, boxes, papers, old textbooks and notes. Trying to shove things in places that don't have room for shoving. Downsizing and still needing more space. One closet just doesn't cut it these days. In the beginning when we had one pot and five plates to our name, this place was heaven. One closet just cannot house coats, gloves, hates, scarves, the vaccuum, my camera supplies, computer stuff, old light fixtures from that go with the apartment that we can't get rid of, without something coming crashing down. Like it did today. The huge, heavy glass dome for the light fixture. My head stopped it from smashing to the floor and breaking.
And it hurt. And I cried. Like alot. Because it hurt and because I am tired of this place and the shitty fucking landlord. And the super who never answers his fucking cell phone and never calls you back. I am tired of the roof that needs to be torn off and repaired, and for the buckets that we put out on the floor when we know the ice is starting to melt. For the toilet that never stops running (again, we beg they come repair it), and the spiral stairs that every couple months need some tightening.
I hate our apartment. And the huge bump on my skull is throbbing.
I hate our apartment.
I hate our apartment.
Tried to do some "spring cleaning" this afternoon. Weeding through our books, kitchen things, boxes, papers, old textbooks and notes. Trying to shove things in places that don't have room for shoving. Downsizing and still needing more space. One closet just doesn't cut it these days. In the beginning when we had one pot and five plates to our name, this place was heaven. One closet just cannot house coats, gloves, hates, scarves, the vaccuum, my camera supplies, computer stuff, old light fixtures from that go with the apartment that we can't get rid of, without something coming crashing down. Like it did today. The huge, heavy glass dome for the light fixture. My head stopped it from smashing to the floor and breaking.
And it hurt. And I cried. Like alot. Because it hurt and because I am tired of this place and the shitty fucking landlord. And the super who never answers his fucking cell phone and never calls you back. I am tired of the roof that needs to be torn off and repaired, and for the buckets that we put out on the floor when we know the ice is starting to melt. For the toilet that never stops running (again, we beg they come repair it), and the spiral stairs that every couple months need some tightening.
I hate our apartment. And the huge bump on my skull is throbbing.