Sunday, 24 March 2013

The Joys of Being a Landlord

The good news: we got our house back! The bad news: unpacking is still a nightmare.

We scheduled our movers and U-Haul well ahead of time and picked an unseasonably warm weekend to move. Then the blizzard happened. We managed to get everything loaded into the U-Haul and only slipped on the ice a few times. Then we realized there was too much snow to get the truck out of the parking lot. Giving up, we decided to spend another night at the apartment.

Me: Um, if the mattress is in the U-Haul, where are we going to sleep tonight?

K: It'll be just like camping!

We were able to get the truck to the house the following day and “unpack,” which means we dumped everything in the garage and called it good. The last few weeks have been devoted to moving boxes into the house and attempting to create some sort of order from the chaos.

We’ve moved 6 or 7 times in as many years, so it’s not like we’re new to this. We’re just a bit burnt out. I’ve decided I’m going to die in this house, because I’m never moving again. After too many international flights in the cargo hold, I think the cats are in agreement with me. Although I do enjoy the labels that are stuck all over their carriers:


One of the joys of unpacking is that you start to notice all of the little things that happened to your house in your absence. For example, we can’t plug the TV into its normal spot because someone decided to cut the cables. Also, someone ran off with the remote for my lights. It’s not that I need a remote to turn on the lights (I’m not that lazy yet), but the remote is the only way to make the dimmers work.

I’m fairly laid back when it comes to damages, because I understand that crazy shit can happen to anyone. That being said, it’s been an interesting few weeks.

I understand not being able to pay your rent from time to time. I don’t understand racking up thousands of dollars worth of damages and unpaid rent before finally getting evicted.

I understand misplacing things. I don’t understand running off with my light bulbs, showerheads, sink faucet, and the batteries from the dead bolt. I’ve pulled batteries from TV remotes in moments of crisis, but I generally replace them afterwards.

I understand putting a hole through a wall after a long day at the office. I would expect the hole to be somewhere around shoulder level. I don’t understand how a hole made it through my bathroom door six feet off the floor.

I understand not noticing a leaky toilet for awhile. I don’t understand how you could miss that until the garage ceiling started caving in.

I understand the occasional scorch mark in the kitchen. I don’t understand how it happened in the laundry room.

I’m generally amused by the things I find in the house, and all of the damages have been easy to repair. We did luck out with our last tenant, who gifted us a cord of firewood and a nice grill for the backyard. As I sit amongst the boxes and freshly painted walls, it’s good to be home.

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