After conquering the heating situation in my first apartment, I felt more prepared to take on household chores and requirements in my second apartment. This was third year at University; I was in a brand spanking new apartment (which had been rebuilt after a fire claimed the previous building), still living with Marie as well as our dear friend Brown Squirrel.
The apartment itself was huge, much larger than our suite at the Ritz. My room was massive and situated separately from the other two, just off the living room. I can’t remember how we picked rooms that year, but the year before had involved picking coloured magnetic bears out of a plastic bag – and I had lost. You work with what you have.
Everything seemed shiny and new, and even had that new stuff smell, as we were the apartment’s very first tenants. After settling in, the shimmer of new stuff was replaced with the disdain for poor-quality-and-even-more-poorly-installed-stuff! Turns out they had needed to finish up the building in time for the school year to start, which involved cutting some corners. No biggie. Instead of fixing stuff, we just used workarounds:
Hot and cold taps on the opposite side then expected? Burn yourself enough times and you’ll learn.
Towel racks falling off the walls even with only the weight of a wet face cloth? Hang everything somewhere else.
Missing or broken window screens? Really just makes it easier to stick your head outside and heckle passers-by.
As the school year wore onwe found more ways to make the flaws of our new home work in our favour 🙂
One afternoon, the three of us decided to go to Costco. What fun! We picked up the usual household necessities – laundry and dishwashing detergent, cleaning products, TP, and batteries (Our flying cow wasn’t as entertaining when it wouldn’t fly). Since it was late in the day, we decided to pick up dinner – a Rotisserie Chicken and all the fixings!
We drove home, humped all our new stuff up the stairs and into the apartment and started to get ready for dinner. I grabbed the cutlery, Marie was working on plates and napkins, and I think Brown Squirrel was opening the wine. The Rotisserie Chicken was still sitting in the plastic container, waiting for attention. It took a few more minutes of us all tinkering around, avoiding the chicken, for us to realize our predicament – no one knew how to separate a whole chicken into the necessary parts! I remember very clearly the three of us standing there, staring at the cooling chicken, feeling like morons.
I think we eventually took the easy way out and used scissors – totally missing the mark of ending up with two breasts and two legs, but it was still edible! You never know when you’re going to face a challenge, the important thing is finding a quick and efficient workaround. The sad thing is, I still don’t know how to separate a whole chicken – BUT I have the scissor hacking method in a pinch.