va-ca-tion, n. 1. Time devoted to pleasure, rest, or relaxation. 2. The act of vacating.

Yesterday was a totally typical day. Woke up, went to work, fiddled with people's lives for a while, came home, got evicted, and ate some chicken.

You heard me. Evicted. When I came home from work last night, there was a sheet of paper slipped under my door. It was the standard eviction notice. "You have three days to comply before we take legal action," and "you must leave the premises immediately," and so on. It was dated July 7 and signed by somebody named "Marge" whom I've never heard of.

About thirty seconds later, I was down in the leasing office with my checkbook. As it turns out, I'd forgotten to pay rent this month, and so I was, in truth, seven days late with it. But does that warrant an eviction? I was about to find out.

The woman at the desk was Angela. I've dealt with her before, and I don't know anyone better trained to ask "Can I do something for you?" with her eyes. "Please don't evict me," I say to her, holding out the angry-looking sheet with all of the big bold letters on it. She explains it to me. Apparently, the late payment notice is identical to the eviction notice because it is the eviction notice. Which is not to say that all eviction notices are meant for evictions, just that late-paying tenants and evicted tenants receive the same notice. While this probably isn't legal in the state of Ohio, it's pretty damn effective.

I paid the rent, plus a late fee of $35 and considered it a day. There was no need to yell or get irate, and it's a good thing as Angela tells me she was much more accommodating to me than she was to another tenant in my same situation who decided to take the holler and stomp route. I slept pretty well last night. I bet he didn't.

I'll probably call or drop by in the next day or so to see if everything's smoothed over. I imagine it is, as Angela's first statement of "You'll have to talk to Marge about that tomorrow," quickly became "When she gets this check, you're fine," as soon as I'd handed her one.

This marks the second time in my adult life that I've missed rent. The first being December 2001, when Eric left town and I assumed all of his job duties. I don't know exactly what about this first part of July was so odd, but everyone seems to agree it went quickly. I think that July 4 being on a Sunday was part of it, since that meant a federal observed holiday on the fifth. Methinks it's time to set a cron job to tell me when to pay rent:

0 0 1 * * echo "Pay rent, dummy!" | /var/qmail/bin/mailsubj "rent due" username