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I need to get the fuck out of my building. It was annoying as hell when it was managed by the negligent company that charged me every time they had to do something ($50 to open a door when Cox accidently disconnected me instead of someone who was moving out), but now I have to deal with some shithead thug who does whatever he feels like.

I've got the best space in the building and didn't have anyone across from me until he and his family moved in. He and his girl (his term, not mine) gave the baby the bedroom and use the livingroom for their bedroom, which wouldn't bother me if they could learn to shut the fucking door. Alternatively, he could just put a fucking shirt on so I don't need to see his bags-of-soft-serve-ice-cream tits flopping on his gut.

The person who had my place before me (and the person before her) didn't leave forwarding address with certain businesses and official agencies, so I've been writing "doesn't live here" on their mail and leaving it on the box for the mailman to take. It used to pile up for a few weeks before he took it, but now it's in the garbage the next day. This includes tax notices and dmv notices but I didn't see the box of blank checks in there. Hmmmm....

So I just went downstairs to do laundry before work and noticed he was cleaning out storage lockers, including mine. When I moved in the one that corresponds to my apartment was taken and I was given a different one; they were all like that. He's decided to clear out any locker which should belong to an empty apartment and just throw out whatever he doesn't want for himself. I asked why he didn't notify the residents, and he said "nah nah nah, this is how it's gotta be. (Old management company) aint here no more, this is what we do." Uh, ok, but that doesn't explain why you removed my high-school sports jackets with my rather unique name on them for the donation pile. Or why my air conditioners went into a different storage unit instead of the garbage pile.

At first I was worried about puffing across the hall from him, but after a couple of incidents of people loudly stumbling out and then him screaming on his nextell in the courtyard (directly across from a police substation, mind you) about how he can't smoke anymore because he's dizzy or, even better, about how someone better have his money because he's nobody to fuck with I'm not so worried. Unfortunately, he doesn't like me very much because I had the audacity to say hi and hold a door open for his girl when she was bringing in groceries. I should've known better because the week before he stepped in front of her and refused to let her speak to me when she tried to introduce herself.

Uh. Fuck. Half the reason I live alone is that I have enough drama at work and don't want any at home. I'm suppossed to be here for a few more months, but I get the feeling that the new agency doesn't know that so I think I can split early . Craigslist, here I come!