Two summers ago I lived in Eau Claire and did manual labor for the Menards distribution center. There was a week or two when the temperature broke 100 degrees every day. The Menards warehouses are decidedly not air conditioned. Neither was my house. That was not a fun summer.
So I'm trying to keep a little perspective ... but damn, it's hot in my apartment. I think tomorrow I am going to go out and buy 3 or 4 more fans so I don't have to keep moving my one broken one around with me. But only three more weeks and I'll have air conditioning.
Remember the guy who was banging on my floor because my neighbor was playing loud music all night and he thought it was me? I met him today. He says when he called the landlord to complain, the landlord said, "I really don't think it's coming from her apartment. She works for the New York Times." Apparently, journalists don't have loud parties.* The neighbor, incidentally, also works for the Times. Crazy. And he did apologize for banging on my floor. And I forgive him because he actually put forth the effort to complain. And the noise has since stopped.
Know what I realized today? Once I move, my new place will be the fifth place I've lived (like, for more than a month) this year. And the third state.
*LG, are you reading this??
About Me
- kt
- New York, NY
- "There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter — the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. […] Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion." — E.B. White
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