apartment from hell, part three

Hello, Internet. I write to you now from the hell hole that is my apartment. Currently, I am sitting in my dining room at 10 pm with all the doors and windows open. Well, all the ones that aren't painted shut. Enjoying the cool evening breeze? Listening to the chirping crickets? Nay. I am letting the natural gas fumes escape from my home. Waiting, at ten pm, for the gas company to show up so I can go to bed without fear of dying of gas poisoning in my sleep. I mean, what if the power went out and I needed to light a candle? Dead. What if I were a smoker who needed a cig before bed? Dead. Blown to tiny bits. Incinerated, even.

One. Thing. After. A-Freaking-Nother.

I am out of here in June. My fourth move in three years. That's gotta be a record.