This is the story of one shitty landlord

As you may recall from my first post about my place, I was pretty concerned about my housemates and how I'd get along with them. And fortunately, it's turned out very well. Everyone is very cool, loves to have a good time, and is respectful of each other. For the most part, we even keep the house clean. All in all, not a bad group.

What I didn't account for, however, was my landlord. Because it's becoming increasingly clear that she couldn't give two shits about us. If something breaks, the mantra is, "We'll come over tomorrow." Which turns into next week. Which turns into two weeks.

Roughly six weeks into moving in, and here's where we stand on the state of the house:

• The cold water in the washing machine (which we only got a few weeks ago) doesn't work
• The mirror in my bathroom was (finally) installed two weeks ago... and there still isn't one in the other one
• The sink in my bathroom leaks onto the floor
• The light in the pool regularly breaks
• The table lamp in my room broke
• The desk promised to me still hasn't been delivered
• Our barbecue is broken
• Cable TV (which I hoped to have for the World Series) hasn't been installed... although that's a bit of a moot point because:
• The sound on the first TV broke
• The sound on the second TV comes and goes (and no replacement yet)

Our landlord has made up for part of those last points by bringing a VCR to the living room. Oh, wait a minute. That doesn't make up for anything at all. It's a frickin' VCR! No one sells or rents VHS anymore! And even if this was the height of the VCR era, somewhere in between the death of Beta and the introduction of DVD, what the hell would we do with a VCR when the TV doesn't work?!?!?

When I moved into my place, not sure of how the housemates would be, I was consoled by the fact that the lease was for three months at a minimum. And today, I'm still glad that it's a minimum of three months, not because of those housemates, but because of this landlord. Goad.