It’s a double-edged sword, this dishwasher of mine.

When I was first viewing the apartment, I shook my head at the kitchen, noting the absence of a dishwasher.

“It’s kind of a deal-breaker for me,” I commented. “I’m lazy and I like machines to do the work.”

The apartment broker rushed to assure me that they are redoing kitchens in their properties one by one, and dishwashers were coming. In the meantime, she said, she’d be happy to order a portable dishwasher for me to use, and I could pass it on to another tenant if my kitchen was renovated during the time I lived there.

Right on.

My brand-spankin’-new portable dishwasher arrived on move-in day (like I needed another box, right?) and I pushed it into a corner while I focused on the mess with the movers. We ate off paper plates for awhile.

A few days ago, I decided to take all the foam and plastic out of the thing and try it out. Roll to sink. Remove unicouple and hose from back. Attach unicouple to the faucet by twisting – -

Oh. The faucet doesn’t have threads on which to twist the unicouple. The instructions inform me that my local hardware store should have some sort of adapter.

I unscrew the entire faucet and the unicouple adapter and put them in a bag, then slog off to the True Value hardware store a few blocks from my house.

“Please help,” I asked the old man behind the counter, showing him the stuff. “This needs to go onto this but it doesn’t have a thing.”

The old man screws up his lips and ponders the pieces for a moment, then walks silently to a rack of approximately ten zillion pieces of plumbing. He deftly plucks one from a hook, opens the package, and screws it onto my faucet head.

$3.59. All right.

Except that it didn’t entirely work.

I put the faucet back on the sink, put the gasket on the new threaded piece, and screw on the unicouple adapter. The unicouple clicks right on, nice and snug. Too bad that when I turn on the hot water to test the connection I get a wee bit of a hot shower in my kitchen.

I dig out a wrench and give the adapter a good crank.

Another shower.

I unscrew the whole apparatus, remove the gasket, and wrap it in plumbers’ tape. Gasket back on, adapter back on, tighten like hell.

Not a spray, but an aggressive dribble. I swear my cat was laughing at me.

I give up for the evening and have my Hot Pocket dinner on a paper plate. The next day I am back to the hardware store to get a second gasket to reinforce the first. More plumber’s tape on, twist twist twist, click the unicouple into place.

No drips!

I dance over to the counter and plug the machine in. I put soap in the container and a few dirty dishes in it to test the thing out. But before turning it on, I push a button to release the water pressure from the hose where I tested the adapter. Splash, into the sink – and the sink doesn’t drain.

Then it does. Very. Slowly.

Not good.

I find a bottle of Drano in my box of cleaning supplies and tip it down the drain. Fifteen minutes elapse and I am supposed to flush it down with hot water. Which, of course, drains only marginally better than it did before. I pick up the Drano jug and notice that it’s still heavy… turns out that whatever active ingredient is in it has settled to the bottom in a sort of bluish sludge, which I scrape out with a knife and poke down the drain in hopes that maybe it will help.

After another fifteen minutes and another flush of hot water, the sink drains a bit better. Adapter on, unicouple clicked into place, water test, no leaks – GO!

I refuse to leave the kitchen while the washer is running, so fortunately I am close by unpacking plates when I hear a little  noise.

Drip. Drip.

The adapter is dripping. But it’s just a little drip.

I go back to my unpacking. And the noise becomes a high pitched whistle. There is a small, fine spray coming from the adapter. But it’s just a little spray.

I can hear the water in the machine splashing around during the wash part of the cycle, so I know that whatever is in there is a soapy mess and I do not want to stop it right now. So I unpack some more.

Then it’s a bigger spray. I have visions of a deluge of biblical proportions.

I give in and crank the dial to “off” and undo the adapter. It gets another layer of plumbers’ tape and another good crank with the wrench, then I smack the unicouple back into place and set the machine to “rinse only.”

I still get a little dribble as the machine finishes out its cycle, but all I am praying for at that point is that I’m not sending a ton of rinsewater into a machine already full of soapy water, thus flooding the kitchen. But it all miraculously drains into the sink without overflowing, and I triumphantly detach the tubes and cords.

“Ha HAH!” I shout. “I win!”

E comes in from the living room and pats me on the back. “Good job, honey,” he says, relieved that he won’t have to deal with The Crazy anymore that night. “Let’s see how the thing did.”

I pull out a plate. It looks shiny and clean. He pulls out a fork. It has soapy sludge on the tines.

We both frown.

“What did we do with the paper plates?”

That last post, the happy one about the awesomeness of the new apartment?

It went a bit downhill from there.

It’s not the apartment itself, really, just the moving process and every snafu, glitch, and bump in the road for the last two weeks. I’ve been intentionally holding out on blogging these experiences because I was Little Miss Bitchy McNegative pretty much 24/7 and I didn’t want this to become my complaint platform. Mama said if you don’t have something nice to say, you shouldn’t say anything at all.*

So I whined to E instead, as he is required by terms of the boyfriend contract to listen and comfort and carry heavy things.

But the house sale is closed and everything is moved, and I’ve been looking for the positive side of these things that have caused me so much stress. I might write later about the whole experience, including the negatives,  when I can laugh about them and not just whine and complain. But there have been a few real blessings in disguise and I’m focusing on those right now on the slow journey back to sanity.

I locked myself out of the new apartment.

On Day One, I found myself in the back stairwell of the four-flat, with no house keys, car keys, or cell phone. How was I supposed to know the back door would immediately latch behind me? I walked out to the front yard and pondered my second floor balcony. If I could get up there, I could get in through the unlocked screen door. The grade of the yard rendered my six-foot ladder useless, and the overhang of the balcony made a climb pretty much impossible for me. Damn.

I knocked on my second-floor neighbor’s door. Her balcony is separated from mine by a jumpable fence, so I thought I could just go through there. And she wasn’t home.

So I was standing dumbly on the sidewalk, looking up and wondering if the corner shop down the street would let me use their phone to call a locksmith, when a couple that looked like they’d just stepped out of an REI catalog stepped out of the house next door to take their huge, friendly dog for a walk.

We got to chatting and I asked them if they knew of a locksmith or would be willing to let me use their phone. And good god, the guy half of the couple took off down the driveway and retrieved a freaking fireman’s ladder from their garage while the giant dog tried to make friends with me by rubbing up on my legs like a cat and almost knocking me over.

So up I went, and promised them cookies as soon as I find my baking stuff in the mountain of boxes. It was a hell of a way to meet neighbors, but it’s nice to find out that you live near such good people. And a massive dog.

The landlords didn’t paint the walls.

There was a wee misunderstanding about that. During the walk-through, I commented about the state of the walls and that they would need to be re-painted and I would like colors. The landlord told me to pick out my colors from Sherwin Williams and she’d take care of it.

She meant she’d take care of getting me the paint at their hefty discount.

I now have four very large buckets in my study and I was MAAAAAD.

The last thing I wanted to worry about with all the moving craziness was having to paint every room in a whole apartment. I felt gypped.

The blessing in disguise is that I’ve looked and looked at these rooms as I’ve been setting things up, and the more I ponder my decorating, the more I want to flip-flop some of the colors from their original plans. Blue in the living room and bathroom now, yellow in the kitchen and hall instead of vice versa.

So I’ll have to work a little, but it’s not like I don’t know how to paint. And now it will be the way I really want it.

———————

*Like I REALLY abide by that, right?

Here’s a followup to the Want/Do Not Want checklists from the apartment-hunting post. This isn’t the one in the photos from the previous post, but needless to say,  I am QUITE pleased… My Wants:

• a pre-war building that has been renovated (check)
• windows that are not drafty (doesn’t SEEM like they are, and have storm windows)
• a proper kitchen with a dishwasher (portable dishwasher, AND giant re-glazed farmhouse sink!)
• a parking spot (Reserved! And covered!)
• either 2 bedrooms or a large one-bedroom (large one-bedroom with eat-in kitchen)
• a pantry (check)
• a patio or a balcony or a deck (balcony with enough space for small grill, small table and 2 chairs)
• 2nd or 1st floor ONLY (2nd floor)
• lots of windows (8 including 2 stained glass, plus french doors front and back)
• extra basement storage (check)
• allows cat (duh)

I do NOT want:

• carpet (check – original, refinished wood floors win!)
• ceilings lower than 10 feet (well, 9 feet will do.)
• windows without wood trim and wide sills (check – original woodwork in great condition)
• window unit air conditioning instead of central air (check)
• street parking (see above)
• anything under 725 square feet (got about 800)
• a building with more than 8 units (it’s a four-flat)

And it would be nice if I had:

• a quick walk to the 59 bus line (nope, but I have the 16 and 57)
• a quick walk to at least a little shop, if not a grocery store, for booze snack runs (2 blocks, check)
• a linen closet (and a HUGE living room closet, check!)
• garage parking (carport, which is just fine)
• crown molding (check)
• an electric stove (negative, but oh well)

Bonuses!

• Small screen room off the bedroom. I grew up with screen porches on every house I lived in and good god, I have missed having one.
• A big cabinet in the bathroom with a space underneath where my towel warmer will fit perfectly. I NEED my towel warmer.
• Landlord had not repainted since the last tenant moved out, so she sent me to Sherwin Williams to PICK MY OWN COLORS and she’s having “her people” take care of it. That saves me a ridiculous amount of money and time, because paint would have been my first project. Now I can spend my money on window treatments!

(bedroom, kitchen, study, living room)

And here’s where you haters chime in… ‘cause I’m getting this for $600 a month. Feel free to spout off about your jealousy of the cost of living in Saint Louis.

I’m not actively job-hunting. Work is fine right now and I have a good job that pays the bills. But a new position is being created in another department at The Hospital and I really feel like that job and I could just love each other forever. I’ve talked with the leadership people in that department and they’ve said they’re definitely interested in me, etc.

I was feeling optimistic.

Then I got an email from Human Resources.

“Thanks for applying to (job). We have considered your application and come to the conclusion that you are way out of your league and we’re going to continue to look for a better applicant with less laughable qualifications. Good luck with your life.”

Or something like that. Like all rejection letters, that’s what it felt like.

So I was sad. Disappointed in myself. Could I have written a better resume? Been more professional when talking with the people in that department? Demonstrated better communication skills? Worn better shoes?

The thing is, I honestly don’t think I am under-qualified for that job. I think I would kick ass, frankly. But things are what they are, and people will make choices that don’t make me happy.

I was determined to resign myself to that fact – after all, I still had a work day to get through before I could go home and pout with my friend Bud (Select). So I frowned, sent a “didn’t get the job, boo on life” text to E, and resolutely turned my attention back to my NovaMind project.

Three minutes later, another email.

From HR.

Huh?

“Please disregard the previous email. Due to a glitch in our system, that message was sent to you by mistake. You are still being considered for (job) and we apologize for your three minutes of sadness.”

YAY! I mean, WTF, but YAY!

Apartment news on the way…

It’s not godawful, really. But it is stressful when you consider the fact that I have to be completely moved out of my house in 27 days and counting. This means I need to find someplace to go NOW.

I’ve narrowed it down to three neighborhoods and I’ve been hitting Craigslist hard with those keywords and my budget. There’s no shortage of stuff available, but I am picky.

All I really want is:

• a pre-war building that has been renovated
• windows that are not drafty
• a proper kitchen with a dishwasher
• a parking spot
• either 2 bedrooms or a large one-bedroom
• a pantry
• a patio or a balcony or a deck
• 2nd or 1st floor ONLY
• lots of windows
• extra basement storage
• allows cat

I probably can’t get EVERYTHING, so there’s always a give-and-take. Like trying to decide if I want to go to the tip-top of my price range and get everything but only one bedroom, or go perhaps $50 lower for more space but slightly less cuteness. Get less closet and just buy a wardrobe to supplement? Is crappy lighting in the kitchen okay when I know I can replace the fixture myself and the landlord won’t notice?

I do NOT want:

• carpet
• ceilings lower than 10 feet
• windows without wood trim and wide sills
• window unit air conditioning instead of central air
• street parking
• anything under 725 square feet
• a building with more than 8 units

And it would be nice if I had:

• a quick walk to the 59 bus line
• a quick walk to at least a little shop, if not a grocery store, for booze snack runs
• a linen closet
• garage parking
• crown molding
• an electric stove

Here’s the top-of-my-price-range one that is the clear front-runner so far. No pantry, but kitchen has room for a shelving unit. No coat closet, but lots of room in the living room for a wardrobe. Gas stove. No balcony/patio/deck. It fits EVERYTHING else though, for $735 a month.

But the hunt continues, just in case there’s something better out there – I don’t want to miss it. I won’t put a deposit down until my house clears the buyer’s inspection on September 8th, so I’m going to keep on. I saw four places yesterday. Will see four more today. It’s out there. And it’s in my price range. I just KNOW it.

Do you like or loathe getting a new place to live?