Have I mentioned before how much I hate the Cherry Creek Club? And how normally I don’t use the names of my apartment complexes because: A. I have enough stalkers, thank you, and B. I try to protect the places I work, live, etc. But the Cherry Creek Club…they’re so bad that they don’t get that kind of treatment.
Here’s the latest:
So, for the SECOND TIME IN SIX MONTHS, our building has cockroaches. I haven’t seen any in my apartment because I don’t leave food out. In fact, I barely eat there at all. But that’s beside the point. The point is that people don’t take care of their apartments and thus get invested by bugs who think they just discovered the good life in those cans of crusty Spaghetti-Ohs and bags of discarded chips.
So, our apartment complex, as they should, is going to spray the building.
I’m all for spraying the building, for the record.
What I’m not all for is getting less than 24 hours notice about said spraying. And being told that I need to move my furniture (excuse me, but a 5′1″ single lady lives here with her ten pound dog…I don’t think anyone’s going to be doing any major furniture moving), clean all my floors, wipe down all my counters and, by the way, also empty every cabinet in my apartment and cover everything with a sheet.
Oh, just that? No problem. I totally want to do that when I get home at 9PM, exhausted at the end of a long (albeit productive and interesting) day.
No wonder I couldn’t sleep and had visions of punching everyone in my building who doesn’t throw away their garbage properly.
Dear Cherry Creek Club Management,
Can you please start asking yourself the simple, simple question: what would I want my apartment management to do if I had a full-time job?
Use your brain.
Love,
Gigi
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