My cupboards are the definition of the word bare. I have one (gasp!!) box of cereal. I have NO propane, since I chose not to fill it rather than wait for a refund, my pantry, (which I rely on to keep my budget in check and our leftovers consumed) is actually dusty in spaces. Oh yeah, and you can't move around the kitchen since there is a large stack of boxes of pots directly in the middle of the floor. Where would YOU put them in an apartment roughly the size of a shoe box, that's inhabited by roughly a half a dozen individuals? (Yes, in space terms, the dog DOES count.)
*sigh
I don't know if I can handle the next nine days. We've already eaten out twice more than we normally would, since my gastronomical muse seems to have taken a semi-permanent leave of absence in protest of the bare cupboards. The more I pack, the worse my allergies get, and the more disgusted I am at the general state of disrepair that we've been coping with the last four years.
Seriously, for thirty thousand dollars in rent, you'd think the guy could live up to his word.
No comments:
Post a Comment