I don’t really have the time to blog here anymore…

Posted on October 10, 2008

3


but this post is mildly funny.

Also I’m shamelessly going to recycle things I wrote in the past. Didn’t make all that much sense because after all I wrote it in the grip of law school brain drain, but still applicable.

When can I withdraw from adulthood?
What I’ve realized recently is that being an adult blows. I thought it was going to rock, and it has to a certain extent, but the blowing is gale-force at times. Has it occurred to you that when something both blows AND sucks, it’s bad? I guess when it sort of hangs there it’s OK. Not what I was led to believe.
Getting back to less salacious subjects. No one said how much time and money being an adult was going to take. They probably did say, but I assumed that I would have the time and money to do it, but I don’t (see last week’s editorial for why). In the past month I have been locked in battle with various forces trying to get our new apartment into shape. The landlord, primarily. When we moved in our kitchen cupboards had no handles, the drains in our sink and bathtub were clogged, two doors were unpainted, we only had one door key, the two sliding doors were broken, and we had no light fixtures or towel racks. Our heat doesn’t work. That’s the price you pay for living in the ghetto right? We tried to move out but we had missed the small print that said that apparently having your application accepted amounted to signing a lease. So we’re stuck for a year.
We began a war of attrition with the landlord. We submerged him with notes. We befriended and flirted with supers (luckily between us we have all superintendent ethnicities covered so we could form bonds). My roommate’s mother flew in from Edmonton to lend credence to our claims. There was mention of legal action, of course. Some of the stuff has been fixed but there’s still a lot of shouting to do.
And then there was Rogers AT & T. Apparently having no significant competition means that they can offer the shittiest service in the world. Yes, Nepalese villages have better service. Brothels. African jails. Bullying works in these places, and they never put you on hold. I went to sign up for internet, phone and the like, and they said the earliest time they could come round to install it was in three weeks. Each thing was to be installed at a separate time. I nearly passed out at the store.
So we read a lot of books. Even when the stuff was installed, it kept breaking down. When I remarked to the guy who came to set up the cable TV that their service was shitty, he said “Yes, it’s crap.” He had some good painting insight, too. Finally, a month and a half later, we have all the communication media in place. But we have more wiring strung around than any spy headquarters. I’d like to compare our setup with CSIS.
The furniture. We have become IKEA’s best customers. I might as well note that in this country an SUV is pretty much a necessity. Getting stuff delivered is a hassle and expense of massive proportions, attended by startling displays of idiocy. Back home, you can get exotic animals delivered to you while you stand by the side of a desert road. Here, they need a buzzer code. No matter how many times you insist that you can open the door using, God forbid, your own hand, they insist on having a buzzer. And when you give it to them they can’t use it. And when you try to call them back they divert you to their “call centre” in New Brunswick where no one knows anything about the details of the situation. At least there, they’re way too polite to yell back when you yell at them. That was nice.
Putting the stuff together was another thing. Up till now, my dad has handled all handyman duties. Apparently, three people plus numerous phone consults cannot attempt to do the work of a qualified engineer. And obviously since everyone I know is from law school no one has any DIY acumen, or indeed any red blood. I still had a lot of parts left over. And now all my muscles hurt from the unaccustomed effort of actually using them.
Seriously, though. Is there anyone who will volunteer to be my parent?

First published in the Obiter Dicta, October 2005. 3 years, and being an adult still stinks. Renting here actually sucks considerably more than that Toronto apartment ever did. The communication services are better here though.

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