4:02 p.m. - Mar. 02, 2004
The Landlord episode
I don�t think I have ever had a more stressful, upsetting, maddening experience in my life. My Landlords (the soon-to-be-ex-landlords, of the �Treehouse�) are being really shitty.
Actually, the wife has been fine to deal with ~ she�s the one that agreed to allow me to have one more day, so that I could have a professional cleaning service straighten up the place, before turning in the key. She also told me that they were gutting the bathroom�so, I knew that they wouldn�t be renting the place right away. So I assumed (incorrectly) that they would work with me, to allow me to get the last few remaining things done, even if it was a day or two after my �official move-out date.�
I have a few things left, in the backyard and I will admit that these things need to be dealt with. I am doing the best that I can. I took two days off of work�I have been working all day and all night, to try to do right by this. But I just can�t seem to win. I am exhausted and frustrated. I feel beaten down. When I spoke to the wife on Sunday, we spoke about the sofa and stuff in the yard that needed to be hauled off. She offered to have someone haul it off for me, no problem. I accepted her gracious offer. She never mentioned it being a problem.
However�
The husband of this husband & wife Landlord team is the one that is being really, really shitty about everything. Yes, he�ll have the stuff hauled off�for a minimum dump run of $100. And, he seemed perturbed by the whole thing, as if I was springing this little surprise on him.
When I ran by the place today, to pick up the TV / VRC (last two remaining items on the property) and turn in the key, he told me that every day that my stuff is on his property, he is charging me ~ and it doesn�t matter that it is inside or outside, that he cannot rent the place with my stuff there. I guess the fact that he is gutting the bathroom has nothing to do with not being able to rent the place.
Bullshit. There is one �Freedom� banner and four tiny cardboard butterflies on the wall. There is a stretch of wall that needs to be painted, which measures about 4 foot across, by about 5 inches tall. No big deal. I could paint it in a minute or two, myself�and I did leave all of the paint and supplies�but, I couldn�t reach that area without a ladder.
Michael is playing hardball. He has no heart and no soul. He is just shitty.
Although I paid for the glass from the broken window on the front door, I told him that I didn�t feel comfortable replacing it myself ~ that it would just take someone with a rubber mallet to fix it. The workman that was present agreed that it wouldn�t be any big deal. Yet, Michael said that yes, it wouldn�t be a big deal�but that he would be charging me for that, as well�another $50, he thought�and, he added, �I don�t even know if you have enough deposit money to cover everything that needs to be done.�
My deposit is $750�money I know that they want to keep, and not because the place is in such a state of disarray. If I had stayed in that place, they would�ve received my rent money and I would�ve lived with the bathroom in the state that it was in ~ which my mother calls deplorable. The bathroom is disgusting, I have to admit. It has fallen, over the years, and needs to be lifted, leveled, re-grouted, all the tiles replaced. No small job. By my moving out, they know that they will not be able to rent the place in that condition ~ that it must be fixed before they can rent it. I know that prick Michael is just being a passive aggressive little shit. He�s taking all of this out on me when he is really just angry with himself ~ angry that he lost a tenant, angry that he�s losing the rent money, angry that he has to fix the place up now before he�ll be able to rent it. He thought he would squeeze me for more rent money and that I would roll over and accept it. Instead, my moving out is going to cost him money, in repairs�.and not repairs that I cost him. Just normal, maintenance stuff that I was willing to live with, while I was there.
He�s angry�and he thinks I am his punching bag.
He could give me a little bit of a break�but he�s not giving me any breaks. I am so angry right now. I have a lump in my throat and I feel like crying. I am exhausted and feeling beat down.
There really isn�t anything else I can do, at this point�except play by the book and pray that he wakes up with a heart in his chest, instead of a blackness that seems to be consuming him.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, deep cleansing breath.
I feel a bit better now, having vented. I feel like screaming and crying and screaming and crying. My throat hurts. I need to let this go or it will make me sick. I am letting go of my anger. I am letting go of my anger. I am releasing that which I do not need, that which does not serve me. It is just money. It is just business. This is nothing personal.
Moving on�
