apartment living

I don't own a snow shovel.  I don't own a lawn mower.  I have lovely flowers in the garden that I never tend.
A leak, I call the office; they send someone.  It's all good, most of the time.
I'm on the 18th floor.  On another floor are 2 pit bulls.  I've shared the elevator with them and their 'handler', a seven year old girl.  Sometimes the elevator doesn't work.  Sometimes, after coming home from the gym, late, and needing to get ready for the theater, I may not have water.
My neighbors had a leak.  They called the office, and it was fixed.  Leak over.  So was "Macbeth" and my night at the theater.  Now I'm sitting at this computer smelling my neighbors marijuana, which is not my thing.  I like a martini.  This is apartment living.
But the view is nice: