And the reason that my house smelled like rotting flesh all weekend is…
I had rotting flesh in my house. No, seriously. My freezer stopped freezing on Wednesday, and the 20-odd chicken legs that consequently defrosted were thrown out and forgotten. Since then my house has been pretty much taken hostage by a rotting putridity and its guardians flies.
How have I been so complacent in the face of this olfactory invasion? I haven’t. I first moved the garbage bag into the front hall closet, which didn’t work. I went out and bought a garbage bucket for it, but that didn’t work, either. Finally I triple-bagged it, bleached both garbage cans, and Mr. Cleaned the front entrance and closet. It’s not perfect, but it’s a vast improvement.
In related news, I’m quite happy with my landlord. I called him the evening that I threw out the defrosted meat, and by the time I got home from work the next day I had a new fridge. Except for some interesting choices they made while putting my food back, it was all very impressive.
Your landlord obviously isn’t friends with mine. We still don’t have a copy of our lease yet.