Part 1: This is why I don't own a house.

So Saturday morning Ryan went off to work (yes, on V-Day) and when I got sick of laying in bed alone, I got up to take Marley for a walk. When we got back, I flopped on the couch with my eyes closed... this was obviously a sign to Mar to jump on my gut and scare the crap out of me. As she landed on my midsection, knocking the wind out of me, my eyes popped open and I got a nice glimpse of the ceiling... and a water stain the size of my fist.

Sigh.

I stood up on the couch and gingerly put my finger against the center of the watermark to see what kind of disaster we were looking at. As I put my finger against the ceiling, I could feel it give. Give in a way that if I had touched it with even an ounce of force more, my hand would be a good two inches deep in drywall.

And this, my friend is why I don't own a house. Because if I were paying a mortgage, this mess would be mine. But since I pay (very steep) rent, I dialed up the leasing office, knowing that they would make it all better and it wouldn't cost me a cent.

The following conversation then took place:

Me: It looks like something in my ceiling is leaking.
Leasing Office: It's Saturday. Can it wait until monday or is it an emergency?
Me: Well, it's not an emergency in the way that a fire or a heart attack are emergencies, but I would say that someone needs to look at this now.
Leasing Office: Ok, but you know it's Saturday, right?
Me: The magnet you gave me with the maintenence number on it says "Call 24/7". I assumed that meant 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
Leasing Office: Well, you can call, but someone might not be available.
Me: Really? Reeeally? The water stain is getting bigger, which I assume means something is really leaking. I'll assume that in the next 10 minutes you'll send someone over to look at this. ::click::

To be continued.