For the past week, I’ve been frantically cleaning my house.
I mean really cleaning it. Scrubbing the walls, washing the windows, rubbing goop into the wood floors to make them look somewhat less beat up, picking the crap out of the crown molding. Right now I’m just as tired and sore as I would be after a week of wrapping cable.
It’s not just cleaning for cleaning’s sake, though. Tomorrow, my landlord comes over to inspect the units and have a talk with both tenants about the ‘future plans for the building’.
My neighbor immediately interpreted this as “get out deadbeats – I’m fixing this shithole up so I can get me some good tenants”. I adopted a wait-and-see position, until the landscape guy, while watering the roses this morning, casually asked if I were planning to come back ‘after the renovation’.
Looks like the neighbor might be right.
So why clean an apartment I might not be in much longer? Because of the ‘might’. The landlord might see that the place looks nice (as nice as it can look with the furniture I’ve got), and offer to not throw me out on my ear. Or, the neighbor could be wrong altogether.
If he does evict me, though, he might just be doing me a huge favor. Rents all over Los Angeles are crashing – in some areas, they’re lower than they were 10 years ago – and if the housing market takes another dive, the money Mr. Landlord is going to have to pay me to leave will help out with a down payment (thank you, rent control laws).
Looks like I win either way.
Plus, my place is super sparkly clean and smells great – except the hallway. I used some of that ‘carpet fresh’ sprinkle stuff for pet dander (mountain rain scent), and now the area smells like a douche – and not the kind with a popped collar (those smell like Drakkar Noir).
UPDATE: Landlord measured all the rooms and then used a bunch of gibberish buzzwords like ‘change’ and ‘transition’. Looks like the neighbor may be right. We’ll see.