And I would have to agree.
My tub hasn’t been draining right since I moved in; and two days ago, it stopped draining at all. I shower in the morning, and it’s still got about 5% left when I get home from work. This morning I finally called the office to get it fixed. When I got home, it’s perfs.
I look around my room/bathroom and realize that this guy/guys/people must think I’m a psycho. I mean, who calls maintenance and leaves their clothing (including underwear) on the floor of the bathroom, a towel hanging over the curtain rod, the shower curtain growing a certifiable CDC outbreak of something extraterrestrial, and a can of empty chocolate frosting in the trash can (yes, still clearly quite single [but my pants fit, so boo you, whores]). WHO DOES THAT?!
Me. Classy and sassy. They probably want to know where my 42 cats were. The crazy, frosting-gorging girl in 1219.