Can I just say
that when I get to my 90’s
and I have completely lost my mind
and I am wandering around alienating my friends,
waving my cane for effect,
terrorizing my neighbors
and calling the
sheriff at all
hours of the day
and night ABOUT nothing,
unless something really is wrong,
like my neighbor’s property is being stolen,
it it past the time for me to be put out to pasture.
By being, put “out to pasture,”
I mean, if someone is willing to
still put up with me and
they open their home to me
be they a relative or friend
I pray that I have the common sense
to accept the offer
before I embarrass myself
the way my previous landlord
did this week.
I’ve been politely dealing with
a landlord (the elder lady’s daughter)
who seems to have a lot of common sense.
She understands, my needs, my children and
my continual life crisis,
and my rent payments that arrive in the mail monthly.
She also understands that if this house does not
get the lead abatement necessary, it will be condemned by the state
no matter who her mother brings into the home.
Like I need more stress from anyone at this point.
I can’t see my kids, therefore, my packing workforce
is me, with a bad back and a sweet wandering girly
A bear, without a direction, or drive to help really
bad timing and 17 year old with anger/bi-polar/houdini issues.
Did I forget to mention my ex who must have coordinated the
exodus of my materials from my former studio with my former
landlord to be on the same day.
What a damn mess!
Perhaps the governor will offer me a stay of execution?
The elder lady in question
brought the new tenant’s mother to my home
to show the premisis (without written notice) and drop off a container of
the said new tenant’s belongings before I moved out.
I said that I didn’t mind the belonging being delivered to the basement.
However, we seem to keep getting rain here everyday,
so sorry to say the basement had flooded.
They told me furniture, not a container.
Containers must be parked on concrete, not grass,
gravel or in the driveway
I need to drive a truck in and out of to move.
She wanted me to remove the railing on the porch and
have them load it on the porch blocking the front window
and possibly knocking the porch roof down in the process.
All the while she is yelling at me for all the extensions she has given me.
(Three weeks ago, she said, ‘Take all the time you need to move!’)
I did stare at her like she was crazy and spoke with the new tenant’s mother.
If you have an issue you need to speak with the landlord _____X_____, not ___Y_____.
“Who is _____X_____?” Said the rude woman?
“___Y_____” doesn’t own the house anymore, you’ll need to speak with her daughter_____X_____.
I wouldn’t have been blunt, if my former landlady hadn’t been an ass.
Perhaps it was some type of show of strength.
Some attempt to feel in control.
Like I said before, put me out to pasture before it is too late.