A Day in the Life of a Strata Manager: Herding Cats, Juggling Emails, and Dodging Lightbulbs
If you’ve ever wondered what strata managers actually do all day (apart from politely declining to unblock your kitchen sink), buckle up. The truth is, being a strata manager is part admin, part diplomat, part financial controller, part psychologist and part professional cat-herder. It’s not glamorous, but it’s never boring.
We asked some strata managers on a typical day, here’s a mix of their replies:
7:30am – Inbox Avalanche
The day starts with 200 unread emails, ranging from the serious (“The roof is leaking again—urgent!”) to the slightly less serious (“My neighbour’s shoes outside their door are a fire hazard!”).
Phone call #1:
“Hi, yes, I just wanted to let you know the garage roller door is squeaking. I think it’s plotting against me.”
A good strata manager develops a sixth sense for triage: leaks and insurance first, squeaky roller doors second, and requests for a spare garage remote (that they don’t actually keep) somewhere further down the list.
10:00am – The Contractor Shuffle
By mid-morning, it’s time to line up trades: plumbers for the burst pipe, electricians for the flickering stairwell lights, and cleaners for the mysterious sticky patch in the lobby (best not to ask).
Phone call #2:
“Hi, it’s Jim in Unit 4. I think the building’s water pressure is too low. Could you call Sydney Water and tell them to fix it by lunch?”
Strata managers don’t do the fixing themselves, but they’re the ones pulling the strings, making sure licensed, insured contractors show up and don’t bill the building for three days of “emergency call-out fees.”
11:30am – Questions, Questions, Questions…..
A flurry of calls come in from the committees & owners:
“I have lost my front door keys can you help with another set?”
“What is our roof made of?”
“When will Kevin’s levy arrears be settled?”
“Can we get a quote for solar panels?”
“What’s the balance in the capital works fund?”
“Why hasn’t Bob stopped parking in visitor spaces yet?”
“Have you signed the Annual Fire Safety Statement and sent it to Council?”
“Are we covered for an ‘Act of God’ in the insurance policy? Can you give me an example of one?”
“What’s the name of the property manager who used to manage the apartment next door?”
“Can we meet on-site tomorrow to review the new heat pumps project?
“Where is my electricity meter?”
“Can you send me your Affidavit for the Supreme Court defects matter against the builder? What are you going to say in the witness box tomorrow? Can you mention my loose balcony door? Will we win the case? How much will the Barrister cost? What constitutes a major defect? Can I come to the Hearing or is here a Zoom link? Who will the Judge be? What time is it on?”
Phone call #3:
“Hello, it’s Margaret from Unit 12. I just saw someone in the lobby without shoes. Surely that’s a breach of the by-laws? And while you’re there can you come change the foyer light bulb too, its gone out.”
The strata manager’s job here is part educator, part traffic controller providing advice, directing decisions back to the committee, organising an urgent electrical repair whilst gently reminding everyone that they can’t simply ban Bob (or shoeless visitors) without following the by-law enforcement process.
1:30pm – Lunch (Maybe… actually no)
If there’s time, a quick sandwich is inhaled at the desk while scrolling through legislation updates because nothing says “fun lunch break” like this.
Phone call #4 (while mid-bite):
“Hi, it’s John in Unit 7. Just checking, am I allowed to keep bees on my balcony? They’re therapy bees.”
Visitor to office
Lonely and sweet Arthur from Smith Street has come in for a quick chat about his recent holiday and that the lawns are needing a mow soon.
2:00pm – Budgets, Levies, and Numbers Galore
Afternoons are for the glamorous work of spreadsheets: drafting budgets, calculating levies, and checking that insurance premiums are up to date.
Phone call #5:
“Hello, I just got my levy notice. Could you explain why I’m paying $800 this quarter when my neighbour, who also owns a two-bedroom unit, is only paying $790?”
It’s not flashy, but it’s what keeps the building running because someone has to make sure there’s enough in the capital works fund to replace the lift when it inevitably breaks down during peak hour.
Phone call #6:
“A car has just smashed through the main garage entry door and is blocking the driveway.”
4:00pm – The Mediation Hour
Late afternoon is often reserved for disputes. Today’s lineup: a noise complaint about upstairs’ late-night dance party, a battle over balcony pot plants, and a neighbourly feud about parking over lines.
Phone call #7:
“Hi, I’m calling anonymously, but it’s Unit 9. The people in Unit 10 are cooking with too much garlic again. When will you do something?”
Here the strata manager is less “judge” and more “guide “explaining by-laws, offering options, and keeping the peace without actually choosing sides. (Diplomatic immunity is key.)
5:00pm – it always happens
Phone call #8:
“Next door’s cat keeps staring into our lounge window, can you make it stop?”
Phone call #9:
“Hi, there’s water pouring through my bedroom ceiling, I noticed a drip this morning but didn’t think it was a big issue so left it, when will you be over to fix it?”
6:00pm – Meeting Marathon
Evenings are often spent chairing or attending owners corporation meetings. These can be lively affairs, with passionate debates about budgets, renovations, and yes, the dreaded parking problem.
Phone call #10 (just before the meeting):
“Hi, I won’t make the AGM tonight, but could you please raise the issue of pigeons in the courtyard? And also, who is the mysterious man who feeds them? Thanks.”
Strata managers keep the meeting on track, record the minutes, and try (heroically) to finish before 11pm.
The Takeaway
A strata manager’s day is a juggling act of admin, advice, and diplomacy. They don’t carry ladders or fix leaky taps, but without them, the building would quickly descend into chaos.
So next time you’re tempted to ask your strata manager to change a lightbulb, remember: they’re already busy fielding calls about shoeless neighbours, squeaky roller doors, and garlic fumes.
Because keeping the lights on, figuratively, for the entire building is more than a full-time job.