I need a BIG FRICKIN' PIPE WRENCH.
There are about 15 air conditioner units outside my window (I kid you not, 12 for my building and 3 for the neighboring ones). One of them is dying. About every fifteen minutes, it whirrs on, and then slowly grinds down. It sounds much like a prop plane's engine spinning down in mid-air. A friend of mine who is a pilot actually drew that analogy today while he listened in. He was then shocked to hear the enormous *THUD* that follows the down-spinning and sounds like something faceplanting into the ground.
Yes folks, I need that huge fricking pipe wrench to carry as I walk outside and fix that broken AC unit with one last final thunk. Okay, maybe thirty or forty thunks with a man-sized wrench.
Every day that I live in this apartment I am reminded how well off I've been for the first many years of my life. I've never had to live in an apartment like mine with the surplus of annoyances and evility. Inconsiderate landlords. People blasting Norteño (circus) music from their van and throwing glass bottles around at 2am (there are large shards in our parking lot). Car alarms. Windows that shake when wind blows. Parking on a 20 degree incline. Linoleum that sticks to your bare feet and lifts off the floor when you walk on it. A pit in the middle of my floor under the carpet. Two-inch walls (thinner in some spots). Bass-blasting neighbors. Frequent tours of my apartment by the leasing agents. Unresponsive maintenance. No parking-space lines (people park diagonally sometimes). Loose electrical outlets that don't hold onto plugs. A cable/internet company that my landlord contracted to cut my previous service and take 6 months to finish installing shoddy internet while entering my apartment unsupervised and leaving on all of my lights. Black soot all over my apartment from chimney sweeps that (they claim) didn't happen. An overflowing sink and accusations that *I* used draino to stop it (thus damaging my silverware). Paying $30 more per month than my neighbor with an identical unit. Three feet of counter space. And *NOW* a kamikaze AC unit outside my window that dives and thuds four times an hour.
Maybe when I'm done with that AC unit, I'll take the wrench down to the leasing office ... and that's probably immoral. 44 days left. Must hang on for 44 more days.