Ok in my rosy little world, apartments are *clean* when a new tenant moves in. I'm not talking swiping all horizontal surfaces with a cloth here, I'm talking top to bottom spotless. I'm talking about the new tenant not finding hair in every nook and cranny. I'm talking about floors that *shine* with a good mopping and fresh wax. I'm talking about walls that have been either washed or have new paint. I'm talking about kitchen cupboards that don't smell like rancid oil. I'm talking about moving into a space that is fresh and ready to be turned into a home.

I'm fucking fed up. This apartment is a great space, and once all the shit that I don't think is my fucking responsibility is done I can get started on making this space truly a home. I'm sick and tired of finding short black hair EVERYWHERE. (Mike, Sara and I are blonde and all our visitors have long hair). I'm fed up with opening my kitchen cupboards and getting hit with the smell of something gone bad, after I've scrubbed out these cupboards several times.

There is tar leaking out of our walls. It's a byproduct of having a smoker live here, I know this. But why the fuck is it my problem to scrub the walls? Why is it up to me to scrub off the lovely drawings of a child that isn't mine? Heh, if Sara ever drew on the walls, she'd also be scrubbing said drawings OFF.

*sighs* I know I'm being idealistic here. It's the way I was raised, tho. When you move out of somewhere, you leave the place in *better* condition then when you got it. In other words, fucking spotless. And if the tenant before doesn't do it, the landlord should.

I know why it comes down to me to do this. Because I'm the one that cares. Also because I didn't make a fuss when we were doing the walk through and everything I pointed out was brushed off. That was a pleasure, I got the distinct impression that I was considered an anal retentive bitch. So instead of doing myself proud and demanding that *everything* was put down, and that there was the expectation that this space would be clean I shut up and played nice. That's why it's now up to me to clean this apartment top to bottom. BEFORE I can really set anything up properly.

I'm not going to forget the good parts of being here, but I won't deny myself the ability to be pissed off. While I'm at it, how fucking long does it take these morons to do anything? Our buzzer has been broken for 2 weeks, and when I mentioned it a second time to the handyman (who is a completely awesome guy) he told me our landlady said "how do we know it's broken?"... um, because we said it was? Oh and btw, it's pretty freaking easy to change the names on the apartment buzzer listing. Care to do that sometime in the next decade? I already did the one in the mailbox, took me 2 minutes with Word. *grr*

Now I'm going to take my idealistic ass back into the hallway and continue cleaning.