I go into the closet office to take stuff out and am in there about ten minutes and start sweating profusely because it’s got to be over a 100 degrees with those two dehumidifiers pouring out heat. And then the whole condo starts heating up—the downstairs has three dehumidifiers going full blast, and so the kitchen area and our living area are intolerably hot unless we open all the windows to cool the place down which seems to defeat the purpose of the dehumidifiers which is to heat up the place to dry it out. Plus that, there’s the noise from those things.
Carol and I decide the place is uninhabitable and probably a health hazard which we tell the people of the condo association so they will know how much we have been put out by this leak and all the other leaks which we want them to know because it is their job to make sure these leaks don’t happen. Maybe they will get scared and do something because otherwise we might sue them. Which we won’t because we know they are trying to do something because the plumbing in all of the 80 or so units is starting to go because this particular condo complex was built in 1973 and the problem is bad enough now that the insurance company that insures the whole complex says something must be done or they will no longer insure us…because of all of the leaks and the costly repair that follows.
So Carol gets us a room at a nearby motel that we have checked out some other time for some reason because we know it has “pet friendly” rooms, by which they mean rooms that you can have pets in and that will cost you a lot more, plus you have to sign a document saying you will pay extra if the pet poops or something. So we throw some stuff in some luggage and go to the motel and check in, so now we are officially displaced persons. And because we are displaced I start thinking about Hurricane Katrina and how all those people were truly and totally displaced and I start getting all bummed out by that again and so on top of all the other cursing I am doing about the leak I am now also cursing the government also…and getting more depressed and frustrated by the second.
But we don’t take the kitty-cat even though we have a pet friendly room because, as it turns out, the one habitable room in the condo is the bedroom. If you close the doors and open the windows the room is not half bad and that’s the room where the kitty-cat spends three fourths of her day anyway. So we leave her food and water and her pooper thing and the next day when we come back to open up the place for the clean up people she seems perfectly happy because she is like 12 years old and mostly just sleeps, though she seemed happy to see us when we entered her room.
This is a good and sweet natured little kitty-cat though somewhat stupid.
So we decide just to leave her in the room for while she might miss us some we think she would probably be more upset if we took her out of her familiar room and off to some damn pet-friendly motel room. So we are displaced but the kitty-cat is not.
1. hole in closet office that will have to be fixed and will require forever to do so.
2. view from the tiny patio of our pet-friendly motel room unit.