Angry

...very angry.

I am angry. You could say I am very angry. Furious.

Everything started two months ago when I decided to move to a bigger flat. Just two days into searching, I found the perfect one. It was available from June 20. That was fine for me, because my contract ended at the end of June. Those ten days gave me time to move without stress and rushing.

During the visit on May 22, I was a bit surprised by the mess, but I thought the tenants were just getting ready to move.

After the visit, I sat down with the commercial agent, a very nice and professional woman, to go over the details. She told me the apartment would actually be available on June 25, because they always take five days between tenants so the cleaning and technical teams can prepare the place and leave it spotless. That was okay for me. I even gave her two extra days, just to be sure.

That afternoon, she sent me the link to pay the deposit. The link wasn’t working, and since it was almost 7 pm, I told her I would go to the office the next morning. She told me there were other people interested, and to secure the flat, it was better to pay immediately.

So I took a taxi and went to the office.

Before continuing, I want to make something clear. I am not naïve. I am a smart lawyer. I would never let myself be rushed into making a payment if I didn’t trust the situation one hundred percent. And I trusted, because I was dealing with one of the biggest and most expensive rental agencies in Barcelona. I had checked their hundreds of excellent reviews. But, I was wrong.

The next morning, I woke up to a message from the nice agent. It said:
“Hi, I want to inform you that today is my last day in the company. Your flat will be managed by my colleague R. He will get in touch with you soon. Thanks for your trust! V.”

I was shocked. In that moment, I knew I was on my own. For the first time in my life, I felt played.

R never contacted me.

On June 20, I received an email from the company telling me to sign the contract and pay the remaining amount. I replied that I had agreed with V to view the flat again on the 26 before making any more payments.

After some back and forth, they agreed.

So on the 26, I met R at the flat.

It was obvious that no cleaning or technical team had visited. Everything was dirty. There was hair in the bathroom sink and leftover food in the kitchen. The bedroom TV was broken, the desk drawer too, and there was a large crack in the bathroom ceiling.

R also had no idea how anything worked in the flat. He ended up admitting he was not the person in charge. F was. He also accidentally mentioned that the previous tenants had extended their stay and only left the day before.

I told him I would not pay anything more until the flat was ready and spotless as promised.

F called me and said we could still do the check-in the next day, and the cleaning and repairs would happen the following week. I refused. After a lot of discussion, he agreed to do the check-in on Monday at 9:30 am.

So much for my stress-free move. I had to check in to the new flat, check out of the old one, and actually move all within seven hours.

Can you guess what happened that Monday? Yes, you’re right. No one had visited the apartment. We found the same hair in the sink and the same leftovers in the kitchen.

That’s when the real anger hit. I told F I was going to the office to ask for my deposit back immediately.

F is a clever guy. He told me the flat would be ready by 5 pm, handed me the keys, said the apartment was mine, and left.

I moved in at 5 p.m. The flat was spotless, and the drawer had been fixed. But the bedroom TV was still broken, and the horrible crack in the bathroom ceiling was still there. Then I started noticing other things that weren’t working.

In less than ten days, three different “technical” teams came to the apartment to fix things.

But the breaking point came last Thursday.

I was working on my computer when I heard the sound of rain, which was strange because it was a sunny day.

But it was raining in the bathroom. The ceiling crack had finally given up, and water was pouring down. Soon, the whole apartment would be flooded.

I ran upstairs, sure the problem was coming from the flat above me. No one answered the door.

Desperate, I called F, but he didn’t answer.

I called the rental company. A young woman told me F was having lunch and that I should wait.

I was out of my mind. I told her, “Fine. Then you can tell the owner his apartment is being ruined because F is having lunch and won’t answer his phone.”, and hung up.

A minute later, the company called back. They said they would immediately call a plumber.

I had said the magic word: owner.

The plumber arrived quickly. He said the problem was my boiler. He had to break open the ceiling. He called two helpers, and they finally left after 11 pm.

By then, I hadn’t eaten all day. I just wanted to take a shower. But first, I had to clean the bathroom.

While I was cleaning, I felt a drop of water fall on my arm. The new boiler was leaking.

Yesterday, they came back. They fixed the boiler but left the ceiling open.

Right now, as I’m writing this, the bathroom ceiling is still open. And I am very, very angry.

Someone told me, “Calm down. Things happen. It’s how you deal with them that matters.”

Really?

I’m pretty sure that if I were late paying rent, the rental company would react immediately, and no one would tell them to “calm down” or “things happen.”

We are talking about a rental contract. I’m responsible for paying the rent, and they are responsible for providing an apartment in the agreed conditions. They haven’t honored the contract since day one.

This is a small story. But behind it, there’s a bigger one.

We live in a society that expects us to be quiet, obedient citizens while corporations and governments get away with all kinds of failures. And when we speak up, people tell us to calm down. Because that kind of thinking is exactly what the system needs to keep us silent.

And for women, it’s even worse.

An angry woman is “hysterical.”

An angry man is “strong.”

I’m angry. You could say I’m very angry.

Not just at the unreliable V, the indifferent F, or the incompetent plumbers.

I’m angry at the system that allows this kind of irresponsibility and then expects us to smile and say, “Don’t worry, things happen.”

Yes, some things just happen. But others happen because someone didn’t do their job.

And that’s what makes me furious, especially when the consequences are much bigger than a leaking boiler.

I’m an upbeat and optimistic person. But don’t come near me with your “positive empty thinking” advice, because it is toxic.

Sometimes you have to raise your voice and fight back.

Because when a woman gets angry for the right reasons, she is not hysterical.

She is awake.

She is aware.

She is powerful.

An angry woman is the most underestimated creature on this planet.

The world might not be ready for her.

But she is here to stay.