Fiasco

I'm not easily angered. I'll get annoyed, bugged, or a little testy from time to time, but to really get me MAD it takes some work (or you just have to know how to push my buttons). Well, this week, I got MAD. To the point that I yelled at someone.
Now, I'll admit, it started with me doing a dumb thing. I take full ownership of that. Who made a dumb-shark move? Oh yeah, that'd be me, over here. That being said, my glimmer of idiocy is but a drop in the bucket. What is this dumb thing I did, let me tell you, so you can think I'm an idiot too: I paid my rent in cash.
I don't usually do this. Really, what it came down to was the following scenario: I was out of checks. Literally, did not have one in my possession. The new ones weren't going to arrive until after rent was due. In hindsight, I should've done a cashier's check or a money order, but I honestly didn't even think of those options. Didn't even cross my mind, mostly because I don't really use either of them. Ever.
Anyway, our apartment manager, in a misguided attempt at being helpful, returned my cash. The problem is, we're not sure who she returned it to. She claims it was our apartment, and that she gave it to the girl who answered the door. Now wait a second, let me check the rest of the 1000 square feet I can't see: Nope, no other girls here. So, June 7th rolls around and our manager's manager is getting ready to make the deposit. Only wait, she doesn't have ours.
So, Curious George gets a phone call, kindly requesting our rent money. He calls me, wondering what-the-h-e-double-hockeysticks is going on. I call the management. Our conversation went a little something like this:

Me: Hi, Brooke, this is Pippi from Such-and-such apartment. Um, I just got a call from my husband saying that you don't have our rent money.
Brooke: Right, Lindsay returned it to you and you brought her back a money order. Well, we have half of the money order here, but we can't do anything about it without the rest.
Me: Yeah, about that, I don't know who she returned it to, but I've never bought a money order in my life. I have no idea where that came from.
Brooke: Oh, well, do you want to come pick it up and you can take it back to the company and see if they'll print you a new one?
Me (getting rather irate at this point): How can I take it back? I don't know where it came from.
Brooke: Well, Lindsay is sure she took it to apartment --- and she gave it to the girl who answered the door.
Me: I work nights. I've been home everyday this week and I haven't seen her. Did she ask for a name before she handed over my 800 bucks?

Anyway, long story short: The management has no idea who they gave our rent money to. They have no idea where the subsequent money order came from. They've put in paperwork to try and figure it out, but it'll take 2 weeks to hear anything back. In the meantime, they're considering our rent paid (because as far as I'm concerned, it is). What it all boils down to is this:

Can we really stay here another year?

This may be the final straw for 2 years worth of dealing with this incompetence.