Sometime close to 6:30 this morning, somebody in my building decided to hang pictures or build a bookshelf or something. 15 minutes later I got up. And at 7:00 Ms. Second Floor (the manager of the little paradise we all live in) telephoned me.

“Is that you hammering?” she demanded.

“No.” I replied. And it briefly crossed my mind that it’s ironic that I had thought the noise was coming from her apartment, and wondered if she was accusing me so as to cover her own guilt.

“It sounded to me like it was coming from your apartment.” She persisted.

“Well, it didn’t.” What more can I say? Should I say that it sounded to me like it was coming from her apartment? No. Probably not necessary. “I don’t know where it was coming from, but it woke me up, too.”

If challenged, though, how can you prove you haven’t been hammering? Would it be enough to point out that I’ve been laid up all weekend with some weird bug? How about showing that while I do own a hammer, I don’t own any nails? Not really. How would a little bug prevent me from getting up and hammering? And the nails would have already disappeared into the walls or furniture, so not having any more isn’t really proof. And why does she think that just because she’s the building manager she can call people out of the blue at seven on a Sunday morning?

And all this happened on a weekend when I’m particularly with her because she just sent out her first monthly apartment news letter. Here are some of the highlights.

From the “Change of Management” column:

I hope to get to meet everyone, and to hear your suggestions or concerns. I am a very caring person who strives to manage in a spirit of excellence.

Please take into consideration that I have 112 apartments to manage, and if you have an issue I will do everything possible to resolve it.

However I do not respond to angry callers or visitors. Talk to me with respect, and my team will try to resolve your problems.

Then under the heading “Friendly Reminders from Management” (which, by the way, is a two-column list of bullet points which are “just a few odds and ends things [sic] that management has been experiencing trouble with”), we learn that:

• we should remove lint from the lint filters in the laundry rooms
• children are no longer allowed to “play or linger in the hallways”
• pets will no longer be allowed because of a few “irresponsible pet owners” (I can keep my cat, but “will not be allowed to get additional pets”)
• that “there are issues concerning the cleanliness and unbearable smells of some of the apartments”
• and that “During the winter season to stay as warm as possible, make sure the thermostat is turned up to maximum” (Why would I want it to be over 80 degrees in here?!?)

And yes, she’s a childless, petless person who seems to think that it’s easier to ban things that annoys her rather than speaking individually to the few tenants who are actually causing problems. But I suppose managing like that would be too much, even for a caring person. And I can’t very well complain, if I am to follow the rules, because she doesn’t “respond” to angry people.

Oh, and this is my third week without the use of my bath because every week she tells me that “something came up” and they won’t be able to get to me until next week.

I love my apartment. I love my view of the pine trees. I love my little porch. But I hate my new apartment manager and her lies and her power trips. And even though I hate the bother and stress and expense of moving, I think I’ll be looking for another place to live before my lease is up in July.