Righteous indignation

I usually consider myself to be a mild-mannered person (Whether or not this is true is completely irrelevant for this post). But I've noticed that certain issues cause my blood to boil, developing within me a righteous indignation that rivals that of Jesus in the temple. Okay, well, maybe not the righteous part, more the indignation... and by indignation, I mean anger... no, rage. Pure unadulterated rage. This rage sets me off in some sort of Hulk-like transformation in which I set aside my Christian niceties and vow to set things right at any cost. Justice blinds me from appropriateness. This year, my righteous indignation has unfurled most fiercely and consistently at my landlords, Mac Property management.

Momentarily setting aside the lost rent checks and 2-month long broken door buzzer that prevented the delivery of my mail, this past week has been a stellar presentation of Mac's incompetence. As some of you may know, Chicago has been plagued by an arctic thunder of such epic proportions that I have not even imagined since I got that tract from the evangelist in Orlando warning me of the End of Days. Of course, during these days of temperatures between -20 and -40, Mac decided that we would not need much heat in our apartments or proper insulation. No, they felt that they could keep the boiler at the same setting they would have it on for 50 degree weather.

Rather than dragging out the drama that ensued, I will give a few snippets of what occurred: 

Me: 3 phone calls over a 6 hour period that resulted in nothing more than a headache, a heated argument, and an unheated apartment; a night of shivering "sleep" with 3 blankets, fleece socks, and a scarf on; a morning of 3 more phone calls and 3 more burned bridges at Mac apartments... oops

Maintenance guy: 1 returned phone call; 1 phantom visit in which he claimed he checked the boiler, but did not come check the temperature in my apartment because it was negative degrees outside (That's right, he did not come fix my heat and tried to inform me that it was because it was COLD outside... as if I didn't know that already, as if my frozen tundra of an apartment did not make that evident); 5 different ways of asking, "Are your windows open?" to attempt to explain why my apartment was cold

Management: 2 returned voicemails in which they shrugged off responsibility for the lack of heat by claiming that I must have unknowingly left the windows open (implying that a college education did not grant me or my 2 roommates the ability to tell whether or not a window is open)

Twenty-four hours after my initial report of the heat issue, my apartment is finally warm. It feels good to win one once in a while.