So Annoying

So if I haven't already vented to you, you should know that I have the worst luck with plumbing issues where ever I decide to live.
When I first moved into this place with Hilary my room turned into a swamp and steadily got worse with each shower we took. Some genius had hammered a nail into a pipe at some point and the problem didn't decide to manifest itself until I moved in and had already hung all of my clothes in the closet. So I got the treat of wet clothes and a puddle reaching the middle of the room. Pretty sweet huh? Well two and a half weeks later and one new wall we were in working order except for the fact that now the handles in the shower decided to fall off with Hilary's unearthly strength.
So again the plumber, who thinks he knows us really well at this point, yuck, comes back out and replaces the said crushed handles with porcelain ones only to have to replace them a month later with new plastic ones that don't shatter when we try to turn on the shower (I will blame the shattered porcelain again on Hilary, only because I have already made her out to be a beast of a woman and wouldn't want to ruin my reputation as a delicate flower. I would also like to point out that we actually used a wrench for a week until the lame-0 plumber finally would return my call and do his job). Intermittently during this time we also had to have the pipes to the washer fixed twice.
So now I bring you to present day, or rather November when I come home from a weekend with my parents discover my house smells like mold. Living in it Kim had not smelled it or realized her floor in her closet and corner of her room were squishy wet and there was a patch of mold growing on her closet wall. So again a call to the plumber produced no results and a now Pissed Off Tamara called the Land Lady. Apparently Land Lady is out of town and the Land Lord deals with it. So he comes out with another guy to look at the damage and they decide something should be done. Genius.
That something is apparently to push the pipe that has been kicked into the wall back out of the wall so it can drain out side instead of into the room. Thinking the problem is fixed they don't return. Kim doesn't notice anymore problems, moves out as scheduled and I leave for Missouri for Christmas.
And of course on my return I find another large puddle. Lucky Erin gets to move into a wet room.
And now after two and a half weeks of working on the problem, another hole in the wall (this one in the kitchen), and people who can't seem to keep appointment times or call when they are not going to, we are still waiting for the work to be completed.
Is it too much to ask to just be able to come home and not worry about whether or not a fix it guy could, OR could not come over to work until ten at night? Geeze Lousie! I want my apartment back, along with my sanity.