As much as I'm not looking forward to the headaches that accompany having the flooring of my apartment ripped up, I am absolutely elated at the thought of our reeking, mould-infested carpet being removed from my living quarters.
The carpet is definitely one of the first things I remember about this place, mostly because of the smell it emits. But I would be remiss if I did not go on to highlight some of its other key characteristics. Not only can you smell (and in some cases, see) the mould, you can feel it. When you walk across the carpet, there's a damp feeling - the kind of dampness where you feel like you should wipe your feet after, but the dampness doesn't stick to your feet; it remains snugly within the purple, threadbare carpet.
I believe I have touched on the purple patches of mould blooming underneath the linoleum in my kitchen and bathroom, but I have to say, this doesn't bother me as much. I feel like it's trapped underneath there, like fish under a frozen lake. It's probably a false sense of security, but I'll take it.
The mould in the carpets leaves nothing to the imagination; it offers no room for me to create a lie in which I can take comfort. When you can see/smell/feel the mould, it makes it pretty damn hard to pretend it's not there. And the health consequences are getting a little hard to ignore. Alex has been sick pretty much since before I moved in here and recently I've been throwing up in the morning (and before my friends can make hilarious jokes about it, no, I'm not pregnant. Douchebags).
So what do we do about it? It's too late to get another place. We've tried some basic stuff. Vacuuming, hairdryers, Lysol, dehumidifier. Alex washed his floor in laundry detergent and vinegar tonight. He's sleeping in the living room because he literally cannot sleep in his room anymore. His clothes are hanging up in my closet because his room smells so bad. ***This is not because Alex smells bad. Alex smells wonderful. It's 110% the mould that is making this smell.***
I was just debating the merits of pouring bleach all over our floors (or...you know...gasoline and a match), and then Alex played a voicemail for me. Our landlady wants to come into our apartment on Thursday to take measurements for new floors. They should be in within the next two weeks. Goodbye mould. And good riddance.
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In other news, I saw two bums beating the shit out of each other on the way home from work last week. And when I say on the way home, I mean across the street from my driveway. Did I mention we live next to a methadone clinic?
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