My apartment complex is full of old people. I don't just mean adults. I suppose I should consider myself an adult but I don't, so you know what I mean by adults. It's filled with the elderly who've been retired for longer than they can remember and they're decomposing even as they walk around. I wouldn't be surprised to find out that I was sending this out through the only internet connection in the building. The old people seem to like me though.

My apartment complex is run by a one of those dolls with the springs in they're necks which makes their freakishly large heads wobble around precariously. Especially when she talks. Her head bobs and waggles with every syllable. Her name's Dot.

My apartment complex has incentives to pay your rent on time. I don't mean the kind of incentives like "not getting your knees broken" either. Everybody who pays the rent on time gets entered in a drawing, the winner of which gets $25 deducted from the next month's rent. I don't get it.

My apartment complex is home to the Heat. The Heat lives in the hallway on third floor. Greeting the Heat on the way out of your apartment is like walking into a solid brick wall, inside a steam room. Even the elevator is a respite from the Heat, and it doesn't have any air circulation whatsoever. All summer it's been hotter in the third floor hallway than outside. One day I fear the Heat will eat me.