Having a ball in my office; not
Considering moving.
Examining the inspection reports that we’ve filed, we find that well over a quarter are guilty of some form of intoxication. Hard to describe, but excessive. But it could also be my landlords. Or my tenants. Or it could simply be me, since the managing director is known to get out of breath walking along the loo.
Bad, me? I’m not. It’s the management company, my council, or my agents, probably all of the above. What now?
The immediate problem is our kitchen. I get it now. Our landlord simply doesn’t care, but what can I do? I can bang up the notices; we could complain to the management company. Neither is a viable option. I’m almost to the point of wondering if they’ve fitted reverse plugs in the door, which I’ve heard is the solution to this sort of thing (although I’m not quite sure of the difference).
The local authority might have a more interesting point of view (their administrator lets us have a bath when she works there so as not to get out the way when I’m still trying to get in). But they are very tight with things so my chances of getting an informal meeting to ask them what to do are not high.
We have the building health inspector, though he doesn’t rate it much. So that leaves me. I’ve not complained, but I do get that bit where the consent form is written all in Roman script, which points to the fact that, no, that didn’t really go through. I’m out of breath getting it to you, but I can’t help but think it must mean something. Aye, I know, but that doesn’t make it any less true.