The Garage

In anticipation of the supposed snowstorm that is coming in the next two days, I thought today would be a good time to discuss what happened the last time we got more than 3 inches of snow. I am slightly concerned that this story will repeat itself tomorrow night so I figure I will tell this story now and then I can say "it happened again" for my next post, thereby killing two birds with one pre-emptive stone and one very short and succinct stone.

We have a two-car garage in the back of our duplex, which we unfortunately have to share with the people downstairs. To start with, I would not be totally shocked if one day I woke up and the entire garage has collapsed on top of my car. It's probably the first garage ever built. Alternatively, it would not be surprising if I found that the ground underneath the garage had given way and my car fell into a sinkhole. And then the garage collapsed and also fell into the sinkhole on top of my car. When we first moved in, our landlord told us that he needed to fill the flooring in the garage before we could park in it. The garage was built over a creek that runs to the lake and every spring when the ice and snow melts, the dirt/former cement flooring crumbles and sinks down, creating a Honda Fit-sized hole in our garage space. Needless to say, I only really park in there when there is some form of precipitation in the forecast and it is below freezing. The good thing about the garage is that the side that belongs to the people downstairs goes mostly unused. They have so much crap inside of it that they can’t fit either of their cars inside. This is what the garage typically looks like when both garage doors are up:

Appreciation

Being semi-employed in an industry that honors the significance and history of President's Day, I have the day off! I have been looking forward to this three-day weekend since the end of last weekend so I was really pissed when I woke up this morning with a headache and snot on my face (to be clear, it was my own snot). Last night, we thought we were doing a good deed by offering to babysit for our neighbors who live two houses down. I want to reiterate that these neighbors are NOT the same neighbors who live downstairs. I can't even imagine what type of stories I'd have if the people downstairs spawned.

Happy Birthday

This fight is brought to you by Guy and Girlfriend. And by me sitting on my couch with Grey's Anatomy on pause so I can hear.

There is loud yelling (the only kind of yelling, I suppose). It makes me miss the sassy comment Dr. Bailey made to Karev so I pause the hit drama in order to catch the live reality show that is already in progess downstairs.

Run Away!: UPDATE!

The following note was stuck on our door late this evening:

It reads:

Run Away!

Guy smokes inside. While it's gross, inconsiderate, and totes against the rules, it actually doesn't really bother me all that much. He only does it once in awhile and if the smoke does find its way up to our apartment, I usually only catch the occasional whiff. He is usually pretty good about going outside to the front stoop to light up, or at the very least, go down to the basement and smoke in the laundry room. I should mention while I'm riding this whaa-mbulance that as much as Guy smokes, it does not seem that he has ever invested in an ash tray. All of the cigarette butts that we do not find in the laundry machine are whirling around in the wind on our front stoop. Sometimes he'll collect them in an empty Diet Coke can that he also keeps under the poop chair, but inevitably, the wind knocks the can over and cigarette butts decorate the shrubbery in our front yard.  

Trash Can Mystery

We share two rolling trash bins with the people downstairs that sit in the back of the house. Every Monday night, the bins get pulled to the curb for trash pickup. We noticed that every time we went to take our garbage out and opened the lid of the trash bin, there would be random pieces of unbagged garbage just sitting on top: an empty cereal box (Special K), used kleenexes (crumpled into balls), an opened tray of uncooked chicken breast (Gold'n Plump), floss (surprising). It looked like they would get up and walk outside every time they had something to throw away. Seems a little inefficient, but whatever. We were already weary of their ability to properly use a garbage can, so this only added to our theory. The stench coming from these bins is overpowering, especially in the summer when unbagged food sat cooking in the hot sun all day. I developed a strict procedure to follow every time we needed to take a bag of trash out. It requires a balance of strong hand-eye coordination and quick movement, and I have detailed it for you below.