Yes, that is a mushroom sprouting out the wall of my bathroom!
I called the landlord. He LAUGHED at me!! “In my 50 years, I’ve never heard of someone having mushrooms growing in their bathroom.” In that century-old house?! Seriously?? “Just pull it out. If it comes back, let me know and I’ll come over and have a look.” Yeah, thanks.
A sight so horrible, it warranted a revival of this blog if only to slap on this heading.
Cue Psycho soundtrack.
I slipped again this morning and fell on my left side. Mah.
* It was actually on my neighbor’s part of the sidewalk, so it’s not technically in my apartment’s scope of terror.
I didn’t think I’d be writing one more of these for a while, but this one really knocked the wind out of me.
This morning I left my apartment to get some lunch. I walked out the front porch when – swoosh! Thump!…. Thump! Thump! Thump! I had slipped and fallen on my butt on a step, then another, then another until I hit the ground. I got to my feet slowly, wincing at the sharp ache on my rear. The steps were covered with a sheen of ice.
I spent the entire day, sitting and standing, in a persistent state of humiliation and pain. Curse you landlord!
At 8:55 am this morning, I found that I had locked myself in my apartment. Yes, locked in.
My front door has a chain lock which I secure every night before I go to bed. Last night I must not have been paying attention because the part that slides into the plate was half in half out. The diameter of the chain end fits within a few millimeters of the opening, but the angle of how it was stuck in the night before prevented it from aligning correctly. I struggled with the darn thing for ten minutes, all the while imagining the sheer ridiculousness of having to call someone to rescue me. Finally, already late for work, I liberated myself with a cry of exasperation. Nuts, it was just nuts.
*Reasons I Hate My Apartment
(Reasons #1 and 2 disappeared when my previous web host screwed me over with their ineptitude.)
