Beware of the Ides of March and the Rest of the %&$#^* Month Too

Typically springtime is my favorite time of year. However, this particular March has just stunk. On the private side, Polly had some weird ailment that kept me hopping from doctor to doctor for a couple of weeks (she's fine now). In addition, I have been working a zillion hours--which will hopefully pan out in a month or two, and the two property management companies I have hired in Birmingham are driving me to stroke out on a daily basis.

Mario's minion, Bruce--who was more than happy to answer my calls and e-mails when he first learned he had lost my gazillion minus one (the one he currently manages) homes earlier this year, got over himself and stopped talking to me at an inopportune moment. He originally sent me a punch list of things the tenant was asking to be fixed. My reply was simply: how many of the particular issues on this list are you asking me to fix that the tenant may have caused?

And, because Bruce tends to be conflict avoidant, he didn't get back to me--even after four e-mails. After a while, I contacted Mario and suggested Bruce must be on vacation, because I am certain he would have answered my question right away, given Bruce is so um... awesome. I let Mario know I was just astonished he hadn't replied to my simple request: was the faucet leaking before the tenant moved in or did the tenant break the faucet and expect me to fix it? After Mario didn't respond for a week either, I started writing more lengthy e-mails and using larger words, hoping to convey my frustration at their silence.

Finally Mario gave in and suggested we needed to have a phone conference. That is scheduled for sometime next week. I really am not sure why we need a pow-wow over a stupid punch list, but whatever. I can roll my eyes just as easily on the phone as I can at an e-mail. All I want to know is was the faucet leaking, was the shower door broken and was the fireplace cleaned before the tenant moved in?

Mario's drama just pales in comparison to Luigi. In his defense, Luigi manages more of my homes (a lot more) and has more hassles. I suspect he is cursing my name for bringing over my homes and all the subsequent baggage associated with these properties. That "baggage" is a blog or five for another time.

At one point a few weeks ago, Luigi sent me a note saying he was sorry to send me another work order. I wrote back: "What a coincidence! I am sorry to receive this." Which I was. Very sorry. The dishwasher had a slow leak that ruined the kitchen floor and all of the cabinets.

Last week, in addition to the popcorn ceiling request, he sent me an invoice for a gas leak I had at my property. He sweetly suggested I look over the invoice and explained he would call in a few minutes to "explain everything." I looked at the total and wrote him back, telling him to just call 911 and just send over a defibrillator.

I have property management companies so I don't have to deal with this stuff. For the most part, I am relieved I am not getting the tenant calls, but I am very tired of writing checks.