The Floor Wars Saga, Episode 1

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... wait, sorry - just last year, in my kitchen.

Any likeness to 'CL' is purely coincidence

Now, wear and tear is normal in any household. And one of the (very) few advantages of renting over owning is that when repairs are needed, the landlord is responsible. That would make me happier if my landlady weren't some kind of evil force bent on ruling the Empire with an iron fist. The Empire being my levels of the house.

When the kitchen tiles started crumbling, I pointed it out to her - politely. (I am always polite to this woman's face. I just keep telling myself - I can't afford to move right now.) When they worsened and cracked and started sticking to my feet in chunks, I pointed it out once again. Tile after tile was lifting and shifting and leaving bare wood behind.

I was told that a little area rug would cover it nicely until she could take a look at it.

That was last summer.

So, after months of tripping on two rugs in front of my fridge, and seeing even more tiles crumble underfoot, the CL (Crazy Landlady) finally called (in January) and said that she'd be replacing the floor. During spring break. The one in March.

OK, I thought, that's good enough for now.

The next couple of months were peppered with occasional comments and warnings about what was to come.

"You'll have to move everything out of the kitchen before I come up."
"You'll have to sweep and mop before I pull up the old floor." (Really? Because it's important to throw away clean crappy floor?)
"I might have to have the back door open for a while. You should probably lock the cats in the bedroom." (For what - the day? The week?)

Spring break comes... and is almost over when I finally decide to call her and find out what's going on.

"Oh... yeah... right. I guess I'll have to go pick up the flooring on Friday." Did she mean Good Friday, I asked? "Friday is Good Friday? Do you think anything will be open?" No, I believed everything would be closed. "Well... (long pause)... I guess I could try to get it Thursday after work."

The next day I got a call, telling me that the work would be postponed until the following weekend.

To be continued... and continued... and continued...