Chepooka.com

You know when somebody asks you to dance, but you’re really not feeling the beat of the song?  Oh and you’re sober too.  You may otherwise be a decent dancer and a pretty cool cat. 

Yeah, that feeling. 

I’ve had a wee bit of trouble sleeping lately with all the stressful stuff going on.  I woke up at around 1:30am last night.  Three episodes of Law & Order later, I finally fell back to sleep around 4am. 

I could have slept in until around 8 or 8:30, but nooooo.  Some guy calls at 6:30 wanting to sell me computer supplies.

me:  “Dude, you’re catching me a bit early today. It’s 6:30am in Alaska I was sleeping.”
him:  “Oh, I thought AK was Arkansas, I’m sorry.”

Anyway, so today I had to do some major catching up on work because I’m so behind.  The neighbors want me to meet tonight for another chit chat, which I understand, but a week later and I’ve GOT TO GET SOME WORK DONE.  I can’t live, breathe, eat and sleep the problems with our building—I have to make the money to pay the attorney and (probably the repairs too if it ends up having to go to court) and I also just need a (excuse my french) fucking break.  They understand, they rule. 

So I whipped up a comp today in record time, luckily I was prepared and had an approved wireframe and creative brief and a good road map in place.  But I HATE not having the luxury of time to “sit” on things.  (Meaning, coming back the next day with fresh eyes so you can judge more objectively if it’s awesome or it’s ass.) Sent it off, boom, I’m done for the day.  And I’m a zombie.

Tomorrow is a work session with an incredibly important client.  Bright eyed and bushy-tailed I must be.  Only now?  I’m so OVER tired that I’m wired.  The recipe for major insomniatic episodes. 

*think restful thoughts*

UPDATE: now with photos

Monday.

It rained.  I had been praying for rain for weeks.  Yay!

Got call from kick-ass new neighbors who live in my building.  From their honeymoon.  House sitter is freaking, there’s a leak in their bedroom, they say.  Will I go check on things?  Of course.  Paint is melting off all the way down to the middle floor.

Just to be safe, check for leaks in my condo.  Sure enough. 

Call the president of our home owners association.  Who is also the builder.  Who is also the seller.  Who is also the person who employed the people who last did work on the roof.  No response. 

No response.

Still no response.

Tuesday

Chaos, mayhem, panic.  Phone calls, emails, no response.

No response.

Still no response.

Can’t get any sort of work done. 

Call “emergency” line provided on our property manager’s website.

AWESOME guy comes out, sweeps the roof off, takes photos, gives me the scoop.

The last people to touch the roof installed vents.  Which required holes.  Which were not sealed.  Or flashed or whatever they call it. 

But that’s not all.

The gutters and drainage is the root of the problem.  The water needs a place to go.

The roof slants toward my unit (I’m on the end).

The entirety of the roof’s surface, several thousand square feet, now has a path for water to drain off. 

In my condo. 

NEATO.

Wednesday.

Wake up, the entire ceiling has fallen off.

Hole in roof.  No ceiling.  No response.  Are you smelling that this is not a good situation? 

Get my father involved, he has experience with such things.

Get my real estate agent and his broker involved, they have weight and expertise. 

They all tell me to get an attorney.

Begin shopping for attorneys.

Chaos, mayhem, phone calls, panic, emails, gah! 

Trying not to be emotional.  *I will handle this crisis with grace. I will handle this crisis with grace.  I will handle this ...*

One attorney calls me back, we set up an appointment for Monday.  Sounds like I have a case.

Thursday

Wait, wait, wait.

Finally the guys who “broke it” came to take a look.  Said they’ll be back to seal up the hole. 

Thursday 8:30pm

They said they sealed it up.

Friday

I am back to work today.  It’s the most gorgeous day of the year so far, and I just bought a truckload of flowers and spent some time in the dirt.  Flowers and dirt in your fingernails are good for the soul.

I can’t control what I can’t control, but I do intend to invest in an attorney and let him handle this from here on out.  I am not in a vindictive or angry sort of mood, but I do think that people that need to make things right just do.  And I’m not going to let somebody hurt me again in life—fuck me over so they can profit and not shed a single tear about it.  Sometimes it’s just better to fight.  Without emotion or anger, but just because it’s right.

ack.  I had to delete this entire post because I can’t stand to think about it.  Me have no ceiling.  Me have attorney.  Tomorrow will be better.  I’ll elaborate when I have good news to share.  Sowwy.