It Ain't Really Mine

For the past ten years I've been living in rental homes and apartments.  And though I hate not being able to freely knock down walls or convert our "office" into a meth lab (Okay, yes, that's not entirely true, but if I'm going to really go for my life long dream of a meth lab, I want it done right and permanent.  No, "Oh, this is just right and making good product," to "Oh, we are moving and I have to pack this up?"  No one wants that.)  Anyway, outside of being handcuffed into following the law, there have been some perks to renting.

For example, almost all the plants outside my home and the trees in the back are dead.  Sure, I feel bad, but let's be honest - I didn't plant them in the first place, I didn't sign a lease to be a gardener and water costs money, which someone, we'll call "my landlord," didn't offer to cover.  Sorry.  So, what's the perk here?  Well, in a year or so I'll move to another place with new plants and trees, where I can enjoy them until I systematically kill them and move to another place.  And while I'm gone someone, we'll call "my landlord," will dig up the causalities I left behind and plant some new ones.  Everyone wins!

Secondly, you know how annoying it is to clean a really large shower?  Well, if it ain't yours and you aren't planning on dying in the shower at the ripe age of 92, then give it a basic clean and when it gets truly unbearable - say it with me everyone - move!  Yes, move.  Move to a new place, demand the new bathroom be polished and enjoy the next two years!  

* I may have embellished a few things in this post.  One, not every plant is dead.  Two, my shower isn't as gross as some would say.  And three, I'm not taking anything back about the meth.