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IT'S BEEN VERY HOT lately, and I've been working like a dog for the past few days, (although about the only thing I can think of that dogs actually work at would be pulling sleds. And it's almost too obvious to note, but--that would mean they're working in cold and snowy conditions, [idyllic!]).

In my preparations for two new sets of tenants, I was scrubbing floors, changing light bulbs, washing air conditioner filters, scrubbing tub-shower units, replacing a toilet seat, scrubbing sinks and counters, replacing stove burner plates, cleaning refrigerators, replacing mini-blinds, cleaning ovens, replacing a piece of dryer venting, washing greasy old light bulb covers from stove hoods (actually, only one, since the other was missing and not available in the depths of any hardware store....Are you sick and tired of hearing about it already, Dear Reader?! Uh, huh. Then you can only imagine my euphoria, my absolute thrill at handing out keys yesterday evening!

In the course of turning over these two apartments, I made countless trips to hardware stores (surprisingly enough, not all big-box hardware stores stock exactly the same items. While one may have a 9-1/2" by 7-1/2" filter for a non-ducted stove hood exhaust fan, another can lure one on into its depths--spurred by encouragement from store personnel who only know the whereabouts, but not the specifics--only to let the now-sorely-frustrated one down).

Part of the problem was mine, of course, in that I did not think long and hard, and list absolutely every item I might conceivably need in order to get the job done before setting out for the hardware store. That would entail doing a fine-tooth-comb kind of a search for problems, as opposed to my usual way of casually glancing around and thinking, "Hmm, the tenants left this unit in pretty good shape. Shouldn't be too big of a deal. I'll run get some stove burner plates and a mini-blind."

Dear Reader, I'm too prone to do that kind of thinking . And not only does it cause me many trips to the store, but it causes me to forgo calling on the Amish woman who usually cleans apartments for me, and setting out to do it myself, since it'll be, you know, so simple this time...

Aaaaargh. It was quite bad enough before the air conditioner in Apartment Fifty-six went on the blink. (Yes, yes, that's exactly what I said: the AIR CONDITIONER broke down! That summer sanity-saver left me high and dry! [Er...you can only imagine, Dear Reader, how low and sweaty it left me!]) And thus ensued the Grand Snafu of Re-rental Week. Double and Triple Aaaargh!

Of course you're going to hear about it, Reader Dear. I'll tell you about Christine, and Carl and Chris, and the quirky quandary. It'll have to be tomorrow, that's all. I've been working like a dog, you know!


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