January 10th, 2012


(no subject)

Dear Landlord/Real estate agent,

Fine. You win. I give up.

After four years of me begging you to fix the broken heater in my flat and you sending someone around to do a replacement quote, then not doing anything else, I'm done. I'll know if I have the TAFE placement I've applied for in fifteen days. Once I know that, I'll start looking for somewhere else to live and stop "annoying you over a minior issue" as you put it today. Clearly we're not going to agree and I'm tired of you calling me with so-called 'complaints' that my lights are on after ten or peering through my windows then complaining that my fake christmas tree being still up makes the unit look untidy and tacky.

The tree is still up because I injuried my knee on the stairs you continuously refuse to put a non-slip surfacing on. You remember those stairs? The one where the last tentant's two-year-old daughter slipped and broke both her legs? The stairs that I have repeatedly told you turn oily in rain due to whatever crappy paint you coated them with? I can't stand without pain at the moment and I live alone. The tree will be up until my leg heals or one of my family members can drop by to take the damn thing apart for me. In the mean time, I'm not due for an inspection for eleven months so stop peaking in my damn windows. It's creepy.

No love,