My dad built a few small apartments when he was alive. The one that I'm living in right now is one of them. I don't live for free, I pay rent. The rent is used for the apartment's maintenance, insurance and other apartment related needs. Also, it helps me not to be dependent (meaning lazy). Meaning it forces me to work for a living. Bless my dad's soul but he does not know anything about construction. A few years ago, one apartment became vacant and we didn't feel like renting it again so it became like a storage for me and my sisters old stuff. It was a good thing too. Me and my boyfriend decided to clean and organize the vacant apartment because it was driving me crazy. That's when we spotted so many problems. The one in particular was the big crack on the wall. It wasn't actually a crack but there was a big line from ceiling to floor. That's when we decided to ask a professional.
This is the reason why I love my boyfriend so much. He's a real handyman. He sees the problems in the house, knows what to do to it, knows who to contact and knows where he can find a bargain for the materials needed. The professional we talked to inspected the apartment and came back half an hour later. He was really amazed at how the whole apartment was still standing upright. He basically told us that the whole apartment was very unsafe and should be demolished. At first I was doubtful and then he pointed out all the mistakes the previous contractor made. My dad was never Mr. Fix It. In fact, he'd surely choose the cheapest product over quality.
The day before the demolition, I was feeling a bit sad. It's the sentimental side in me. The whole structure was built even before I was born. I just can't believe we have to tore it down. My bf sensing my grief told me there's nothing to feel bad about it. He said it was basically a dust magnet. That sort of lifted my spirits. The untidiness was actually driving me insane. So I tried hardest to forget the negative and focus on the positive. No more dust, more space. I could put potted plants, a place to dine al fresco (did I use that term correctly?), a play place for my niece and nephew. That did it. I got excited.
The whole apartment was basically a trip down to memory lane. It held all our old stuff. The saddest part about it was that most of memories had to be thrown away. I didn't know the roof leaked each time it rained. A lot of my school books, old notes and pictures were damage. The last couple of days were used to sorting out the good ones from the bad ones. I'm still not finished. Also, I have no idea where to put the stuff in. I'll find a way.
my sister would have loved to help but since I am the only one unemployed, my weekdays are now reserve for sorting and cleaning. They will help me on the weekend.
You know, I can't believe I have never taken a picture of the apartment before the demolition. I guess I was too sad to even think of it. No worries though, I know better things are coming up our way.