I have horrible luck when it comes to renting.
2011, the home I lived in with my roommate and her baby was torn up by the tornadoes that ripped through Raleigh in April of 2011.
That was a nightmare. I had to find an apartment quickly at the same time that I was graduating from my Masters program.
Then there was the condo that flooded when the guy on the third floor’s washing machine exploded.
And then there was last night.
So last night, I was laying on the couch and eating some tortillas. I started to drift off, and my last thought before I started drifting off, was “what is that smell? I thought that the last time I lit incense was on Friday. The next thing I knew, there was a bang at the door, and a firefighter informed me that the girls downstairs, who in enjoy smoking (not cigarettes) had caught fire to the building. So I shoved the cat into the carrier, grabbed the dog and a phone charger, and left.
About an hour later, I was allowed back into my apartment, but suffice it to say, I am sick of renting, and the next time I see those girls, they’re getting a huge side-eye from me.
But shoutout to the firefighter who held/snuggled my dog while I scrambled about, trying to find the cat!