Matt and I have never lived in an apartment before this year. I mean, yes, Loyola offers “apartment style living” but it is without the apartment living. So for the last two years, I live in a high-rise on the gold coast in downtown Chicago and any time a problem arose, I picked up the phone and called maintenance. I never had to unclog a sink, change fire detector batteries, replace light bulbs, or repair anything. That is not the story in our apartment.
Now, when our bathtub refuses to drain, we have to unclog the hair. It is really gross and a task generally delegated to Matt; except he tends to unclog the shower while he’s taking a shower, puts the hair ball on the ledge, and forgets about it. When I find it later, there is much gagging and general freaking out that occurs.
When our fire detector battery died and wouldn’t stop chirping, Matt did not know what to do. He immediately wanted to call the tenant manager and have him come over and replace it. I didn’t think that was very adult and my solution was to take the detector off the wall, pull the battery out… and let it sit on our coffee table. That was about two months ago, and the fire detector is still sitting on the coffee table.
And the lights, well… we still haven’t figure that out yet. So our apartment is dimly lit, and getting darker everyday.
I still think we are doing a great job adjusting to apartment living: we’ve only had one major gas leak, we didn’t have heat for the first few hours of the blizzard, the washers have only flooded the laundry room once, and we’ve only blown the fuse four times! And, we have survived it all! We are learning the nuances of apartment living, and creating some wonderful memories in the process.