So...we're getting kicking out of our apartment. Or, more specifically, we've BEEN kicked out but we haven't left yet.
I suppose I COULD be really upset by this, but considering we already planned on moving out...I'm thinking this is more like divine intervention.
Since going to Texas to spend time with my birth mom, we've been dying to pack our shit and get out of Massachusetts. Truth be told, there isn't anything worth staying here for, except my husband's two sons with his ex who we're not allowed to see...and frankly, we stand a better chance of GETTING visitation with them if we file through a state other than Mass.
It's been hard for me to pull the trigger on this one and really get the process started because we didn't know HOW we'd get our stuff, or us, out there...how we'd get the money to pay for it...or any other logistic type details. Plus, with my husband back at work, we became content to just pull in the money again...
So...apparently this past weekend while my family was out at a car show hocking our wares, the land lord decided to "clean" our section of the back porch. And by "clean" I mean...remove the two chairs and end table, as well as the little barrel we'd been using for my husband's dirty work clothes (yes, he strips on the back porch before coming into the house). As they were digging through my husband's dirty work clothes they found some drug paraphanelia...a soda bottle used to make a bowl for smoking pot out of. Now, neither my husband nor myself SMOKE pot...this belonged to a friend of ours who had come to stay a while ago, and either we didn't realize he'd put it in there...or we knew and we'd forgotten...or we simply excepted some reasonable degree of privacy given that the section of the porch it was on, is the section we pay rent to inhabit...but then, maybe I'm pushing the limit here.
So Sunday morning I was sitting here at the computer, crying as I updated my facebook status about the passing of time and the 28th anniversary of my father's death...there was a knock on the door. When I opened it there stood my landlord, holding a zip lock baggie containing a soda bottle...and his son (who also lives upstairs and is married to my 'stay at home mommy' friend). They ask to come in and I let them. He immediately confronts me about the bottle and I'm confused because while I know what it is, I have no idea why it's now in a baggie in my living room. He explains that he's had it ANALYZED BY THE POLICE and they said that it is used for smoking pot OR CRACK?!?! I assured the land lord that nobody in this house uses drugs, and certainly not CRACK...but he kicked us out anyway claiming that while WE don't use drugs, apparently the people we know do, and therefore we need to move out.
He said he'd heard we'd planned on moving out and I confirmed, we'd meant to be out by Thanksgiving. He said, "The sooner the better." He went on to say he'd ALSO heard the dishwasher was broken and that everything worked when we moved in, so... *shrug* Not sure what that means. Am I supposed to pay to have it fixed? I don't expect we'll get much of our deposit back, so I think he can suck it.
Immediately my husband and I thought maybe we should get out by the end of the month. But then, I figure, why panic? Legally he needs to give us 30 days (legally i don't believe he CAN kick us out b/c we have kids...) which would have brought us to approximately the time we'd planned to leave anyway... so there...
That's the universe giving us the kick in the ass we need to get moving. Also, my mother has agreed to fund the move...we don't know how much money we may be looking at for funding...we're waiting on the check to arrive...But with these two things in place...I've made a call to the moving company.
Still though...I'm really sick to death of people fucking up my life. Truth be told, nobody in this house DOES use drugs. You want to know who DOES though? The landlord's son. That's right...the one standing guard behind his father as we got kicked out? HE smokes the weed...daily. I'm torn between punching him in his hypocritical face...or laughing at how uncomfortable that much have been for him to stand by and watch.
Either way...we're outta here! I'm beginning the great apartment purge of 2010 today..
I suppose I COULD be really upset by this, but considering we already planned on moving out...I'm thinking this is more like divine intervention.
Since going to Texas to spend time with my birth mom, we've been dying to pack our shit and get out of Massachusetts. Truth be told, there isn't anything worth staying here for, except my husband's two sons with his ex who we're not allowed to see...and frankly, we stand a better chance of GETTING visitation with them if we file through a state other than Mass.
It's been hard for me to pull the trigger on this one and really get the process started because we didn't know HOW we'd get our stuff, or us, out there...how we'd get the money to pay for it...or any other logistic type details. Plus, with my husband back at work, we became content to just pull in the money again...
So...apparently this past weekend while my family was out at a car show hocking our wares, the land lord decided to "clean" our section of the back porch. And by "clean" I mean...remove the two chairs and end table, as well as the little barrel we'd been using for my husband's dirty work clothes (yes, he strips on the back porch before coming into the house). As they were digging through my husband's dirty work clothes they found some drug paraphanelia...a soda bottle used to make a bowl for smoking pot out of. Now, neither my husband nor myself SMOKE pot...this belonged to a friend of ours who had come to stay a while ago, and either we didn't realize he'd put it in there...or we knew and we'd forgotten...or we simply excepted some reasonable degree of privacy given that the section of the porch it was on, is the section we pay rent to inhabit...but then, maybe I'm pushing the limit here.
So Sunday morning I was sitting here at the computer, crying as I updated my facebook status about the passing of time and the 28th anniversary of my father's death...there was a knock on the door. When I opened it there stood my landlord, holding a zip lock baggie containing a soda bottle...and his son (who also lives upstairs and is married to my 'stay at home mommy' friend). They ask to come in and I let them. He immediately confronts me about the bottle and I'm confused because while I know what it is, I have no idea why it's now in a baggie in my living room. He explains that he's had it ANALYZED BY THE POLICE and they said that it is used for smoking pot OR CRACK?!?! I assured the land lord that nobody in this house uses drugs, and certainly not CRACK...but he kicked us out anyway claiming that while WE don't use drugs, apparently the people we know do, and therefore we need to move out.
He said he'd heard we'd planned on moving out and I confirmed, we'd meant to be out by Thanksgiving. He said, "The sooner the better." He went on to say he'd ALSO heard the dishwasher was broken and that everything worked when we moved in, so... *shrug* Not sure what that means. Am I supposed to pay to have it fixed? I don't expect we'll get much of our deposit back, so I think he can suck it.
Immediately my husband and I thought maybe we should get out by the end of the month. But then, I figure, why panic? Legally he needs to give us 30 days (legally i don't believe he CAN kick us out b/c we have kids...) which would have brought us to approximately the time we'd planned to leave anyway... so there...
That's the universe giving us the kick in the ass we need to get moving. Also, my mother has agreed to fund the move...we don't know how much money we may be looking at for funding...we're waiting on the check to arrive...But with these two things in place...I've made a call to the moving company.
Still though...I'm really sick to death of people fucking up my life. Truth be told, nobody in this house DOES use drugs. You want to know who DOES though? The landlord's son. That's right...the one standing guard behind his father as we got kicked out? HE smokes the weed...daily. I'm torn between punching him in his hypocritical face...or laughing at how uncomfortable that much have been for him to stand by and watch.
Either way...we're outta here! I'm beginning the great apartment purge of 2010 today..
Thank you for taking the time to read my blog and comment. It's nice that I am not totally alone in my feelings on this whole friendship thing here on SG.
And thank you for the compliment on my shop.