Sprung a Leak

the one overt blight on my by most other accounts lovely apartment is sustained water damage in the dining room. it made itself known (peeling paint revealed more of a structural, systemic problem than a cosmetic one) a few months after i moved in. the next 6 months were spent waiting for the property manager to do something about it. she was a procrastinator, to put it nicely. before my ceiling got fixed a new property manager took the first one's place and had to haggle with the management company, over a period of about two months, to get them to fix it. that is, paint it.

i believe the paint job lasted a month before the familiar cracks and creases began to show and the hunks of paint began to fall.

there is almost no chance of it getting fixed again any time soon.

the other night i heard what sounded like skittering in the kitchen. i immediately tensed my shoulders and braced myself to have to deal with some sort of rodent (i can say that i have never once had any mice in this place and i couldn't be more grateful).

Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
Drop.

Water coming in droplets from a crease in the kitchen ceiling.

This morning, at the unfortunate hour of wakefulness (10 before 6), I felt my threadbare sock come into contact with moisture on the floor. Oh, right. The occasional, small evidence of a leak in the bathroom that i also deal with periodically.

The idiots on the 7th floor are notorious for turning on water and walking away from it. But this building is actually splitting apart due to the tightfists of the management company (located more than an hour away). I can't believe how shortsighted the owners are--rehabbing this building would bring a mint! They could charge double or triple for my unit alone.

But that isn't the point of this post.

I'm thinking of these leaks as a providential nod. It's really time to go. I know this. I've known this. I just have these moments of nostalgia or a lazy drive to stay put. Then, without fail.

Another crack. Another drop of water.

I just hope the building holds up long enough for me to get out.