It seems I’ve been remiss in my blogging. Apologies. These past two weeks been fairly gruelling between exams, end-of-year administration, and trying to find a place to live next year.
Anyway, I don’t know if anybody would really want to read the stuff that might come out of my head if I were writing this before I finished my science cluster of exams (formula, formula, stupid math joke, soul of dying orphan child, formula, blood, demon), so perhaps in that respect it’s a mercy I haven’t written.
I had a chemistry exam at 9.00 this morning. I won’t complain about that, because it wasn’t that bad. It was what happened after that was the real pain in the fundament. Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.
So M and I have been apartment hunting throughout the month, and after a few false alarms we found a place that seemed perfect. Big, light, spacious, good upkeep, a good-sized room for each of us, and butt-cheap, even with everything included. This was Tuesday. We got the paperwork from the super and realized we’d need a co-signer, since we’re both students. Only problem? We both live well out of town and don’t really have anyone in Toronto who could co-sign for us. We get the super to find out if we can fax co-signer signatures. The answer is yes. I fax the documents to my dad in Ottawa to have him fill them out, while M gets a certified cheque. This is Wednesday. Faxing my dad the documents turns out to be a massive pain, because fax machines are hard to come by and rental forms are so confusing that neither he nor I know what to put where. We get our wires crossed a few times. Also, while, sending the fax, I witness an abusive fight between U of T management and some kid who wants to pick up his $7 dollar deposit a month late, which ends with a call to campus police ($7? Seriously?). My faith in humanity slides down a notch.
By Wednesday afternoon we pretty much have all our crap together except for a few details, but we know we won’t have time to actually sign the lease, because the place is a little ways away, and signing a lease takes time, and we both have a chemistry exam the next day which we NEED to study for. The apartment had only just been made available, was poorly advertised, and didn’t seem to have anybody else looking at it, so I figure we should be fine if I bring in all the paperwork this afternoon, after my exam. The exam runs from 9.00 to noon. I get to the rental office by maybe 1.15. The super, who’s a very sweet Argentinian lady, looks up, and I can tell by her face that something isn’t good.
“I’m sorry, honey- it’s just been rented! A man came in two hours ago with all the paperwork ready and it’s gone through!”
Two hours.
I scream “KHHHAAAAAN!” a few times within the privacy of my own brain. Then I ask what else is available. Turns out there’s a bachelor, which we had a look at as well, when we saw the apartment that’s just been rented in our little narrative. It’s a hundred a month cheaper and it’s available a month later, which is a plus because we won’t be here in the summer. I’ve already got all the paperwork. I call up my compatriot and she agrees: Fuck it. Give us the bachelor. We won’t have much privacy, but at least it’s a decent size and in very good shape. Because my dad is a co-signer, we fax it to him at his work, but it takes more than an hour to get to him, for reasons I still don’t fully understand. During that time I’m sitting on my thumbs in this lady’s office feeling as anxious and uncomfortable as I have in my life (well, no, breaking my femur at the age of fourteen months was probably worse, but I can’t remember that. Does that mean it wasn’t actually me that it happened to? Curse you, John Locke.), while my dad waits in the fax room over in Ottawa getting more and more annoyed. My dad is proof that nobody gets mad like a Scot. He manages to convey so much wrath in the word ‘fine’ that it blows my mind. Finally it comes through, I sign, and the shit is over with.
When I get back to res and attempt to do a little laundry, I manage to spill liquid laundry soap over everything. But by this time, I’m too worn out to find any further misfortune of mine anything but fucking hilarious. I’m giggling like an idiot as I scrub the blue gunk off myself. (Fun laundry soap fact 1: Laundry soap molecules have amphiphilic polarity, which means they’ll stick to ANYTHING! They’ll also be absorbed by the spongy tissue under your skin, so they’re INCREDIBLY difficult to wash off! Fun laundry soap fact 2: Laundry soap is very alkaline! This means, if it stays on your skin for any length of time, it BURNS! :D )
It’s around this time that I realize I haven’t eaten in nine hours. I get poutine. Suddenly the world is a much nicer place.
I save lives.
Thus ends the chronicles of my incredibly strange, intense day. I suppose it could have gone much, much worse, but if anyone happens to find the top of my head lying around I wouldn’t mind having it back.
No comments:
Post a Comment