Radon Gas
When I was looking for real estate this past summer, I prided myself that I didn't really need all the bells and whistles a lot of the apartments came with. I'd been living without a microwave, dishwasher and air conditioning for many years -- and I thought, even if I'd end up in a place that had those things, I'd probably never use them.
Of course, the long story short is that I use the microwave and dishwasher almost every day -- and many was the warm night last August when I would turn on the central air. Just tonight, I decided I wanted some popcorn, but the pan I use to make popcorn was dirty -- so rather than clean it by hand and make some popcorn right away, I'm sitting here waiting for the dishwasher to finish its cycle, yearning for popcorn that's still forty-five minutes away.
All this leads me to radon gas. When I got my new place, the relocation agency that sold it offered me a free radon test (I'm imagining to cover their liability). I didn't think much about it, until I read a couple days ago that accumulated radon gas in homes is a leading cause of lung cancer. I was looking through my closing papers for the radon gas testing form, when I came across my place's appraisal, which I had never read thoroughly before.
And, much to my chagrin, I noted that the appraiser had rated the features in my place only as "average," while many of the like apartments he compared it to had features judged "superior."
So now I'm looking at my door handles and windows and countertops and thinking ... just average. I guess I'm undergoing the tranformation from renter to owner.
(I could never find the radon form, so the place is sending me a new one so I can get the test done.)
Of course, the long story short is that I use the microwave and dishwasher almost every day -- and many was the warm night last August when I would turn on the central air. Just tonight, I decided I wanted some popcorn, but the pan I use to make popcorn was dirty -- so rather than clean it by hand and make some popcorn right away, I'm sitting here waiting for the dishwasher to finish its cycle, yearning for popcorn that's still forty-five minutes away.
All this leads me to radon gas. When I got my new place, the relocation agency that sold it offered me a free radon test (I'm imagining to cover their liability). I didn't think much about it, until I read a couple days ago that accumulated radon gas in homes is a leading cause of lung cancer. I was looking through my closing papers for the radon gas testing form, when I came across my place's appraisal, which I had never read thoroughly before.
And, much to my chagrin, I noted that the appraiser had rated the features in my place only as "average," while many of the like apartments he compared it to had features judged "superior."
So now I'm looking at my door handles and windows and countertops and thinking ... just average. I guess I'm undergoing the tranformation from renter to owner.
(I could never find the radon form, so the place is sending me a new one so I can get the test done.)
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