Well, this is just lovely here. Three days of studying left for the state bar exam and this place stinks to high heaven.
Yesterday, there was a flood here. Apparently, a reservoir on the roof, which holds water for the air-conditioning unit for the Rowell Building, sprang (has sprung? sproing? sprïngenfülten?) a major leak. There is standing water – or was when I looked yesterday afternoon – on parts of the sixth floor.
We’re on the fifth floor, of course. Attorney Chris Bijev is right underneath some of the larger puddles. Part of the ceiling right outside his office came down yesterday. Water was streaking down both sides of the wall between his office and the hallway. Ruined some pictures on his wall, flooded his reception area (and the hallway outside). Chris is two doors down from me. Oh, well, at least this solves one problem: his birthday is coming up soon and now we know what to get him. The entire floor is chipping in to buy him a canoe.
Meanwhile, Attorney David Mugridge, two doors away on the other side of me — I’m a descendant of Moses, so naturally the water is on each side of me — has a flood in his office because the air-conditioning unit leaked. (They’re sort of wall units, right up against the wall – it’s probably left over from some of the first units ever invented. The building itself was built and – near as I can tell – last received maintenance, around the turn of the 17th, 18th, or 19th century. (Okay, so it was the early 1900s; who’s counting?))
Chris is getting moved to “nicer” offices on the fourth floor. If you ask me, though, this entire building is starting to look like it should be condemned. I kid you not: I’ve seen better-looking offices in the news footage coming out of Beirut and the Gaza Strip. And the bathrooms, which have had leaks like this for a long time, really do look worse than something you’d expect to see in a ghetto. Notwithstanding the great location (right across the street from the courthouse), I think I’m going to have to re-locate after I get sworn in as an attorney.
When I went up to look at the sixth floor (which is vacant – the last tenants moved out earlier this year, saying they couldn’t take it anymore), it looks like the jungle is taking over. You know those old Mayan and Aztec ruins you see? I’m thinking of moving to one; they’re nicer. And less scary.
Back to the sixth floor of this building, there are pieces of the ceiling that are looking like they’ve fallen. There are growths – growths – on the walls! It looks like someone poured jello or something down each wall in the place, stuck multi-colored furry creatures to the goo and then smashed them. Or maybe that’s mold growing on the walls. The carpets are covered in mold, too.
After seeing it, I was amazed. I really think if a city inspector came through here, the place would be condemned.
And now, today, the stink. I can hardly think it smells so bad; and I’m getting a headache. I’m hoping I’m not being poisoned, less than a week before the bar exam. I called the landlord and was told that after they extracted the water from the carpet (which, to me, still looks wet – but that could be “new” water, I guess, after the original extraction), they sprayed some kind of anti-mold stuff on the carpets. Maybe that’s the smell. I don’t know. Smells kinda like a cross between paint and vinegar. And someone is supposed to come today to do some more work of some kind that’s supposed to make it all better. (I hope it’s Jesus, or some other miracle-worker, that they’re going to send.)
I think there’s some kind of conspiracy to make sure I never forget the days of prepping for the bar exam. I just hope I make it. I never want to live through this again. I’d rather become a bus driver, or one of those people who runs around downtown asking if folks want their car windows washed for a buck. I think I’ll go buy a squeegee at lunch. Heck, at the rate the water is moving around here, I’ll need it to clear off my desk.
Please forgive the whining…everyone needs to have a little breakdown every once in awhile, I guess. Feel free to write and tell me about your missing feet, so I won’t feel so bad about not having shoes.
But…this really, really, really sucks.
And, of course, not one of us here practices landlord-tenant law!