Living conditions at my rental address were egregiously substandard, bordering on disgraceful. While I believe the agreed upon rent stated in the lease was fair and appropriate given the quality of my living arrangements several years ago when I first moved in, I now feel that I am if I may be frank paying for the privilege of squatting in an abandoned brick building on a skid row of gentrifying fraternity houses. Please allow me to explain as I don't level this criticism lightly. Over the last year alone, living conditions at the Benny Street address have slipped from Bad, but Tolerable to Uninhabitable. And this ought not come as any surprise, as I believe I have made every attempt at clear and open communication with the leasing management company, the answering service, yourself, and all the stakeholders involved during my tenure there. For the last 2 or 3 years, I have endured rather precarious and inconsistent living conditions during the winter months as the buildings old heating mechanisms, thermostats, and furnace have been annually stressed to their breaking points. Each year, while I am certainly grateful for the expedient service calls of the handymen who manage to MacGyver together quick stopgap fixes to keep the pipes from freezing and keep the warm ventilation flowing from the baseboard heaters, each solution has necessarily become more and more intolerable as these are mere band-aids on much more fundamental and urgent issues. For the last calendar year concerning my heating I was at the mercy of my downstairs neighbors, as the most recent stopgap fix to my broken heating problem was to somehow or another jerry rig our malfunctioning thermostat so that my heaters now responded only and expressly to the setting adjustments made to the thermostat downstairs. I suspect rodents have invaded the building, as well. I was clinically depressed; what saved my life, in the end, was the love of my family, as well as the adoption of my innocent, curious, unconditionally loving rabbits.