I spent the holidays in Woodpile then Portland. I had a flight booked but ended up driving cuz the airport was all clogged up and stupid last week. My return trek officially ended when I set foot inside my apartment this morning at 7am. I discovered:
1. my house pet, a plant, all shriveled up and sad. It’s on its last root after just one month living with me. Maybe I can still save it.
2. I left a pot of water on the stove. This would not have been bad except the water contained post-steamed vegetable residue which, apparently, is a fantastic substrate for fungus. The pot lay filled with purplish-green fuzz for close to a week. I’m sure I terminated newly-emerging life as I fought the mass in my sink and forced it down the drain. The timing of this discovery was impeccable as I’m nursing the WORST HANGOVER OF ALL TIME.
3. (continuing on the subject of mold) my bedroom carpet is all fuckin’ soaked…again! (see: Joys of Renting) Origin of the moisture: unknown. Sticking his head in the sand, the manager concluded last time that I must have absentmindedly spilled water on the carpet (yeah, like 3 gallons or so), or neighborhood kids opened my bedroom window and dumped water in my room. “There’s no way water could be coming in from underneath; that’s why I’m not going to pull up the carpet.” He steam-cleaned the carpet and the problem did not return…until now. This time, no water could have been in my room (I was away) and my window was barred shut (no hijinks). He’s going to pull up the carpet, or I am, and he will fix this problem or I’m out of that place.
