"The squeeky wheel gets the grease."

I wish this was true.

For the last four weeks I have been sweating ballz in my apartment. It's 92 degrees today, and all of my windows are open. There is no respite from this Chicago heat. It's surprising to me that I'm not dead ... especially if you take into account my lack of hydration and overindulgence on Coca Cola products. Thanks, Summer.

The thing is, my landlord is a douche. I suppose I should say landlords or landcompany. Our unit is owned by a building company (who rents to lowly post-grads) and are not yet able to sell the land for a crap ton, before knocking this three flat down and throwing up a mansion. They don't care about me, my roommate or my neighbors. Nope. And, that is why it doesn't matter how squeaky I am; they will not put in our air-conditioner; they will not replace the blinds that look out into our neighbors window, where they can clearly see us roaming around in the nearly nude; or be helpful in any other way.

Squeak as I might, it is for naught.