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When I moved in, there was this part of the ceiling in my bathroom that had obviously been patched--smoothed plaster under the paint instead of sheetrock. The paint on one edge of that area started, over the course of time, to bubble, but the whole apartment was freshly painted right before I moved in and it's gone a little wonky in a few places, so I figured, whatever.
Last month, there was water dripping from the air vent. I put a towel down. It went away.
Yesterday, I noticed that the edge of the plaster patch had actually cracked and was gapping, and I thought with resignation that I was going to have to get around to actually calling maintenance about it at some point.
This morning, I heard a dripping sound. Hm, I thought. Something somewhere is dripping. When I went into the bathroom to take a shower, I noticed that whatever was dripping was dripping into the tub, but it wasn't any of the faucets. Then I looked up; the crack had widened and a new one had started, and water was dripping through the patch. When I reached up to touch it, the plaster was cold-wet and heavy with moisture.
So, yeah, the maintenance guy is here, now, cutting open my ceiling to determine the extent of the leak upstairs - apparently my upstairs neighbors had been put on some kind of notice of the situation (not totally clear, here; his English is heavily accented - I think he's Italian.) and done nothing about it, and now, of course, they're gone for the weekend. He says it'll take four or five days for things to dry out and become repairable, but assures me that I'll still be able to use my bathroom. "Just a little different environment," he says, "more--natural--with things up there."
Oooh, he's going to fix the showerhead that leaks, too! Neat!
Last month, there was water dripping from the air vent. I put a towel down. It went away.
Yesterday, I noticed that the edge of the plaster patch had actually cracked and was gapping, and I thought with resignation that I was going to have to get around to actually calling maintenance about it at some point.
This morning, I heard a dripping sound. Hm, I thought. Something somewhere is dripping. When I went into the bathroom to take a shower, I noticed that whatever was dripping was dripping into the tub, but it wasn't any of the faucets. Then I looked up; the crack had widened and a new one had started, and water was dripping through the patch. When I reached up to touch it, the plaster was cold-wet and heavy with moisture.
So, yeah, the maintenance guy is here, now, cutting open my ceiling to determine the extent of the leak upstairs - apparently my upstairs neighbors had been put on some kind of notice of the situation (not totally clear, here; his English is heavily accented - I think he's Italian.) and done nothing about it, and now, of course, they're gone for the weekend. He says it'll take four or five days for things to dry out and become repairable, but assures me that I'll still be able to use my bathroom. "Just a little different environment," he says, "more--natural--with things up there."
Oooh, he's going to fix the showerhead that leaks, too! Neat!