After moving into my current place of residence, I informed Robert that I had no desire to ever live in a fixer-upper. I'm in one right now, and as a renter I think it's that much more of a pain in the butt. I've had to put in a lot of time and money of my own to turn this place into a place I like. After the fiasco with the heater (I turned off its flow of gas; I'm so done with it), I've come to realize something else I don't like about this place: the perpetual smell of gas. You'd think that, with time, my sense of smell would become immune to it. But the opposite has happened, and I can smell that shit from quite a distance. I like having a gas stove and oven, but I'm fairly certain that it's not supposed to reek the way it does. I didn't realize it bothered me so much until, when I decided the other day to stop at Best Buy and wander around, I suddenly found myself in the appliance section ogling new stoves. This isn't normal, even for me, which is why I paid attention to what my subconscious was telling me: inhaling gas constantly may sound like fun, but damn, it gets old after a while.
Earlier, before the visit to Best Buy, I interrogated my landlord and learned that it was he who had gone inside my place, though he tried to blame me for leaving the heater on. Total bullshit, but moving on, I mentioned how badly the entryway and kitchen smelled of gas. (Subconscious much?) I've checked and rechecked every pilot and it's all in working order. To me, smelling the gas is a huge red flag, but to my landlord, it's a moot point. "It's all working, and safely according to the manual. It's fine." Ah well, what do I expect, asking this question of a man who's been a chain smoker for so many years now that I doubt he even has any working taste buds left on his tongue.
And so it is that another item is on my wish list. I want to be rid of that supposedly new stove, which given my landlord's previous purchases, was most likely the cheapest one he could possibly find. He refuses to get me a new one, so I may have to take matters into my own hands. I hate having to do that, but someone's got to look out for me.
The best advice I've gotten so far, courtesy of both Robert and my dad, is to get in touch with the city and bring up the fact that a living space needs to be habitable. And being habitable includes not inhaling noxious fumes. Seems sound enough to me. Any further advice or ideas from you, dear reader, will be much appreciated.