  Today is officially our fourteenth day in the apartment. It's going alright. The a/c doesn't blow (or rather, blows) in Lauren's room which is probably attributable to a giant hair ball in the ductwork.
The woman that lived there before us was incredibly hairy. She may be the missing link. She lived there for four years and never bothered to pour draino down the sinks. Took a double shot to make them drain right. It's a little smaller than we're used to and it's on the third floor, but we're managing.
My neighbors subscribe to the Baltimore Sun. Or at least the Sun thinks they do. There were 14 newspapers piled up in front of their door today. There's also a flyer from the apartment management on the door. That's from July 2nd. I don't think anyone is dead in there. The usual apartment smell lurks in the stairway but nothing hinting of a human body decaying. Maybe they've been dead for so long that the stink has gone away or just blended in with the rest of the strange smells one finds in an apartment building.
Maybe the guy fell into the refrigerator and couldn't get the door open. Fourteen newspapers. If the resident is on vacation do you think he's really going to come back and read all of his newspapers that are piling up in the hallway with their little orange and yellow bags? I've been contemplating taking last Sunday's paper since Sunday. I want the circulars. I'm a circular junky; have been since I was a kid.
Even if I'm not shopping for something I can easily sit back with the Sunday paper and read circulars from Radio Shack, Best Buy, CompUSA, Circuit City, and Sears. I always find something I like in one of those. Anything with electronics, tools, gadgets, or men's clothing I'll read. This morning as I stumbled my way down to the parking lot I noticed today's paper wasn't in the pile with the rest.
It must have slid off the top of the heap because it was laying on the first step on the way down to ground level. I could see the picture of the front page through the plastic. It's Michael Phelps, the Maryland swimmer who's going to Athens. Now, this paper is just going to go to waste anyway. Either one of the other neighbors is going to get tired of stepping over the pile and throw them all away or the owner is going to come back and do the same because who wants to read two weeks worth of papers in one sitting.
So the paper becomes mine. I really only want it for the funnies and the crossword puzzle. Maybe I should have liberated Monday's paper instead. The Monday crossword I can always finish. 
