Our very own reality show

Chad's boss was teasing him today about how we could have our very own reality show here at the apartment.  Sadly enough, that's probably the truth.  Why is that, you ask?!

At this point all I can do is laugh about it, so I hope you find the humor in the situation as well.

We literally have a pathway from the front door to the bedroom, as we are packed in here like sardines. Half of the outlets and lights here do not work, so it is pretty much like living in a cave.  Our dishwasher doesn't work so well - anything that's on the top rack gets turned over a filled with water.  And, have I mentioned the racket it makes?! 😂. Our fridge works about eighty percent of the time, so you never know what you're going to wake up to.

I'm sure I've mentioned the parking space (or lack thereof) before, so I won't go into that again.  Our dryer doesn't work - Chad thought he had it figured out, but it still takes a good seven or eight dry cycles to get a small load of clothes dry.  The complex itself only has one option for cAble, which we finally got hooked up. And guess what came with it?! A TiVo box. 😂. I seriously didn't know they were still around.

The boob light in our master closet came tumbling down, so we have a boob light chandelier.  The shower is impossible to turn on, and I'm pretty sure one of these days the spout with come off from us banging on it so much.  There's no place to hang a hand towel so we have resorted to using our bath towel instead.

On Thursdays the lawn maintenance guys are here - that proves for a very loud day since Cappy is trying his hardest to protect us.  One nice perk to the complex is that they have nightly garbage pickup service for us.

We are, slowly but surely, getting accustomed to apartment living.  Though we'd both rather be in the house, we are making the most of our time here - and (attempting) to enjoy the close living quarters.