tigira decided this was a good idea. I think so too.

Two good things:

1. I have lots of tea that I won in a shower game at my cousin's wedding shower.

2. I have an A/C unit that is neatly installed.

Neither one of those things is giving me much more than a mild, "oh, that's nice" feeling, but they were the things I thought of.

DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is not LJ-cut because it loses its impact. Sorry, but I need to rage in full format. I guess anger and physical pain are a nice change from depression.

FUCK YOU!


Ok, remember my apartment trouble? Remember how I said it wasn't just the mold that was a problem? Well, when my dad came up yesterday, he said that the ceiling looked frankly dangerous. There's mold UNDER the paint that is going to eventually make the ceiling fall in if unchecked.

So I called my maintenance people today, just a minute ago.

Attention everyone: do not EVER, EVER move into a building owned by Fineberg Management, Inc.

I called. I heard chattering and yakking on the other end of the line after about six rings. I had to say, "Hello?" into the phone to get the answerer's attention.

Twitch the first.

"Hello?" she echoed. I had to ask if I had the right number. When she assured me I did, I told her I had several maintenance requests to make on the apartment. "I can only take three," she said. "We're very busy. Just give me the most urgent ones."

Twitch the second.

I described the mold problem in my room and the bathroom to her.
Her: "Ok, so you need it scraped and painted, right?"
Me: "Right. My room is the one--"
Her: "Just tell me what you need done."
Me: "Well, like you said, I need it scraped and painted, and I want the mold--"
Her: "Right, you already said that. You'll have to make it fast. We're very busy."
Me: "I also need the hot water tap on our tub fixed. It leaks, and I get burned every time I take a shower."
Her: "So it's really hot? I don't know how they're going to fix that."
Me: "Well, if they can just stop it leaking, I'll be happy."
Her: "Right. Any other urgent requests?"
Me: "Well, those are the most urgent ones. I--"
Her: "Ok. What's your address? Your name?"

Many more twitches.

I gave them to her and she said goodbye and hung up.

I hate you, you stupid cunt. I hope you die when your house collapses on you due to lack of decent maintenance. Kiss my ass.

Oh, and this is after a two-hour hike through an industrial wasteland in the blazing sun. I think I have blisters on my feet.

(no subject)

One of these days, I will be smart enough to realize that how I feel doesn't make much difference. The more I need, the less I get. The more I hurt, the less I am comforted. When I want something most, that's when I'm least likely to get it.

I really need a good day. I need a hug. No, not a virtual *hug*. That doesn't help much. I need to hear someone tell me they care about me, and that they don't want me to be hurting. No, not in an LJ comment. LJ is not life. Just for a change, I'd like to feel like I'm not alone.

Sometimes I wish I didn't need anything from anyone. I wish that I didn't have to be the needy, greedy bitch of an attention whore. I wish that I could be happy with the comfort I can get, of brief e-mails and a promise to talk some other time online.

I'm not allowing comments here. They don't help when I'm like this. I wish they did. And I'm not expecting anything more.