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seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
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seen from United States

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seen from United States

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seen from United States
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So when I left my job and fled the state, discovered a MINOR issue a little before departing: the apartment complex where I was supposed to move nixed my application when we were pretty good to go. So...fuck. This gave me no time to find another apartment. Instead, found a short-term place to stay with the plan of finding a long-term place in March.
Since being here, my heater has died twice. They are pretty quick about fixing it if you ignore that this is the second time it’s needed replaced. The dude fixing it is awesome (although the cats locked in the bathroom loudly disagree). Just...
I hunt down cats and lock them up. Guy comes in. Checks out heater. Does some shit. Runs out a couple times to fetch items. In the background, Cat #1 continues to snarl death threats.
Heater is going. He reports plan to come back later to see if it is still actually heating. My foolish self lets the cats out.
Mind you, I’m only supposed to have two cats here. I have three. Makes things difficult.
Get Cats 1 and 3 back in the bathroom before the guy returns. Cat #2, the one I think is literally brain damaged, somehow catches on to my foul plot and hides under the bed, out of my reach. She is quiet and camouflaging, so I hope she remains hidden during this process.
Guy returns. Cat #1 resumes snarling death threats. Guy realizes the heater needs replaced. Again. Tries to explain to me what the problem is when I couldn’t even figure out how to fix my old sink. Shrugs, starts replacing it.
Boom.
I wasn’t looking (doing research), so I have no idea how it happened. All I know is the window is now broke.
So the heater is replaced, my window is getting replaced, Cat #1 is still snarling death threats and I have no idea what he must think of the sheer rage coming from the bathroom when no one else is making a sound, and Cat #2 is probably never coming out from under the bed again.
I should have bought popcorn.
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Not me dedicating SEVERAL MINUTES looking for a scissor only to find the little bastard roughly 5 CM TO THE RIGHT of the spot I already patted down SEVERAL TIMES. It wasn’t even under anything! I can only conclude that I temporarily became scissor blind bc wtf???
…And this is why you don’t crochet in bed, people.