My OCD just hit a new high. Or low. Depends on your perspective.

So, everyone remembers the mushroom debacle of 2013, correct? If you don't well then - four mushrooms grew in my bathroom last summer.

That's right. Four.

The apartment complex booted me out of my bathroom for a month and allegedly fixed the problem, but I poked the spot the mushrooms grew in a week ago and it was all mushy. I called about it a bunch of times, but no one did anything.

Until my toilet started running.

So I called every day. That's right. And sometimes twice a day. Because that GD toilet was so GD loud with its running every thirty seconds I took to turning the water off and on every time I went in to make a deposit. Bear in mind, no one ever told me ANYTHING about the toilet, or the shower, but allegedly someone came in and told the Roomstress that someone would put a new toilet in on Tuesday. Tuesday came and went -  no toilet, but someone fixed the problem. I figured THAT was what the message was and was just happy that I didn't have to turn the toilet off and on each time I took a tinkle.

I came home last night to find all my dirty laundry that I left in neat piles on the floor had been kicked under my bed. I was annoyed until I saw this:

brand new toilet! i took my maiden tinkle on it yesterday.

Then I noticed THIS:

oh my god ya'll. what a craptastic job.

And the shower is STILL leaky, but I'll be dammed if I'm calling again. At least not until another mushroom grows.

In other news, this was on the stairs today:

a bunch of boxes that were shipped with love. charming.

That's all I got for today. Over and out.