Frissues and Toilet Trouble

When you have a fridge and it has issues, you've got a case...of the frissues.

Mother and I went back over to the old place last night, as Former Roommate had indicated a desire to meet up this week and give the place a thorough scrubdown. This worked out perfectly, as she didn't show up to smell the odor that had taken over her bathroom.

We could smell it from the hallway.

"What is that?" I asked, edging into FR's room, expecting to find a dead mouse or some other critter. We followed our noses into the bathroom, where...

...apparently, FR's boyfriend had taken a whiz in the toilet, left the seat up, and not bothered to flush.

He did this to me, too, Friday night - I came home late and he'd used my bathroom (WTF?) to take a whiz, then left the evidence there, along with the seat up...apparently this is some sort of habit.

So he presumably left this deposit here on Saturday, where it fermented over the weekend in our hot, empty apartment.

I flushed it. There was a film.

"That's disgusting," Mother said.

I concurred. Say what you will about my past boyfriends, they were smart enough to flush the toilet.

We got to work. She cleaned out the fridge. I tackled my closet and under the sink. We threw out plenty of stuff, boxed up what remained. Two and a half hours flew by, punctuated by Mother's occasional gasp of dismay, followed by some remark about how I managed to survive here. "Did you just shove old stuff to the back when you bought new stuff?"

"Maybe?"

Fridge is cleaned. I have a couple boxes left to haul down and throw in the garage and/or give to Goodwill. Will probably hire a maid, as I'm not sure FR intends to return and I have a better chance at getting some of my deposit back if the place is professionally done. I got clearance to work from home tomorrow so I can trot over to the old place and let in the Fridge People to pick it up.

Random aside, Fridge People sounds like some kind of horror movie.

We didn't finish working on the place until 10, so we ended up stopping at McDonald's for dinner. Mother got a Big Mac, I got a Filet o'Fish, and all was right with the world...until we tried to turn on my aged-but-loyal television (it's at least 20 years old) and nothing happened.

This led to five minutes of frantic button-pushing. We are not TV whores of any sort, but I'd just shelled out $$$ for cable installation, and after a long day of working and cleaning, well...we wanted to plunk down on the couch and watch Hoarders.

Fortunately, the issue resolved itself the instant we called Brother; apparently even the threat of male assistance makes the problem go away.

The apartment has come together very nicely. My furniture all fit - that was the big worry - the bedroom is actually bigger than I thought, and all that's left is putting away miscellaneous things. The housewarming is still a ways off, but there will indeed be a grand gathering.

It has a warm, happy feeling.

I'm home.