So, I’ve lived in Ohio for a little a month. You’re probably thinking that not that much could happen in such a short time. But that’s where you’d be wrong. You see, my life is never really dull or boring.
There’s an adventure around every corner! For example, my apartment.
It’s adorable, and I love it. It just happens to come with some … quirks.
Such as the window that had a cracked pane when I moved in. But it got fixed after a couple of weeks (and just the inside pane was cracked without an obvious impact point. Weird.), so it wasn’t really a big issue.
And near the end of the window saga, my air conditioner was acting a little funky. Every now and then it’d give me an error code, but that was mostly during thunderstorms. I’d turn off the ac for a while, turn it back on, and it’d be fine again.
But then, on a day when I actually had friends over hanging out, my AC decided that not working would be a great way to add a little something. And of course that was a day when I was roasting garlic and a cauliflower in my over and boiling water for pasta. Let’s just say it got a little humid in my apartment, and I am so thankful for fans.
Fast forward a couple days. The AC repairman comes, fixes it (turns out it was low on refrigerant), and all seems well.
Cue more thunderstorms. I didn’t used to wake up to thunderstorms or really heavy rain, but apparently I do now sometimes. On that fateful night, we were getting hit with some intense rain. I, for some odd reason, woke up and walked to my bathroom window to see the storm. And that is when I heard it.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
When I moved in, I noticed that some of the moulding around the window looked like it had gotten wet at some point. But it was in a bathroom with a fan (but not the best fan), so I was guessing that it was from the humidity/condensation forming from hot showers.
That night, I watched as water slowly dripped from the moulding and splashed into the growing puddle on the floor.
It was 3 a.m., so what do I do? Take a short video to send to my landlord, mop up the existing water, and toss a washrag on the floor to catch whatever water decides to make the grand adventure from the great outdoors to my bathroom floor.
The repairman who came out isn’t really sure where the water is getting in, and since the water can’t tell me, I don’t know for sure. But I do know that it will be fixed, and that damp adventure will come to an end.
And who knows what will happen next?