Oh the Inspectors Will Come Out Tomorrow
It's a good sign when a piece is inspired by a song from Annie.
Perhaps that depends on what you think of Grace's version of "Tomorrow."
University supervision
Tomorrow rings in our sixth or eighth housing inspection. You see, we live in university housing. It's absolutely incredible in an array of ways: affordable rent; utilities, internet, local phone included; washer and dryer; secure living environment; living among families. The housing folks respond, quickly, to repair requests. The place is great. We love it.
Living in the property of a state institution means they get to come by and inspect things. When I was 18 or 20, this rubbed me the wrong way. At the time it was more about privacy and not letting other folks know about my poor decision making process or my slobbery. At 42, it's flipping annoying to have people--nearly half my age--inspect my living situation.
Sure, I know, owning a house or living off of campus would probably remove a number of these problems. I get that.
But I don't care at the moment. I just want to snivel a bit and say, "Really? I'm 42, my partner's at least three times your age, and the last thing we need is a fire... We're not gonna burn the place down. Really."
Yeah, they have to do their job. But it's still annoying. It removes the illusion that this is a home and shifts it into a temporary-living experience, and I would rather avoid that emotional response at the moment.
End of snivel.
Image source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/andyarmstrong/