Hello Fellow Dreamers!
How was your week?
Mine?
Well. It was alright, mostly, except for this one new thing: I have to move! *YAY ME!*
Yep.
As if I haven't done this already TOO MANY TIMES, my roommate has decided to shack up with his girlfriend, in a house, when his lease is up at the end of January, 2013 - which is a year shy of what he told me when I looked at the place.
Or, when he bugged the crap out of me to move in, since his last roommate moved out, with no notice, a day before the rent was due. He said he was stuck, desperate and would come get me, if I needed a ride.
Needless to say, he creeped me out. What if he was a scammer? He sure seemed like one (doh!)
Just to be sure everything was legit, I tracked down the property manager of the condominium who assured me that "he's a good guy with full permission to sublet." The man on the other end of the phone made me believe I had nothing to worry about.
Based on a great recommendation, backed up by the condo association (yes, the P.M. checked out, too) amenities I want and more hope than I guess I am allowed, I paid close to four thousand dollars for a room with an attached bathroom, in a place I am proud to call "home."
Since I have BAD LUCK, I confirmed that I could stay until 2014 for the second time, before I signed the rental agreement.
And, a third time before I paid the deposit and rent.
When the shippers added four hundred bucks, to what was already two times the quote I received in Asheville, to move my things up three flights of stairs, my roommate was here. I explained what was at stake, then asked a fourth time.
He told me exactly what I wanted to hear...
We covered every single detail, except for the one thing that gets me every single time I trust someone: PEOPLE LIE.
Why, oh why am I surprised to learn that I am just a temporary fill-in for the last tenant, or the one before him and the one before that one?
Yep.
Three roommates have come and gone in seven months...
Living with him SUCKS ASS.
Next time, I will ask for references.
Great.
And, I'll ask to see the lease.
While I try really, really hard to believe that a bank robber, with a repo on her record who is nearly broke, will find a habitable situation that's affordable on small, fixed income in San Diego, where full credit and back ground checks are standard and $725 a month is cheap rent (with TWO roommates).
Yeah. RIGHT.
Don't get me wrong, I am wicked thrilled for the darling couple. Love is hard to find. I wish he and his wonderful girlfriend all the best. Really, I do, I just...
WHO CARES?
Absolutely nobody.
So. I have to look for another place to live, where I do not have to worry about a credit or background check, or that another deposit will be out of my reach...or how the hell I am gonna move...where?
Then there's that whole issue of my life remaining on hold, until I get settled, grieve my losses and find balance again. I planned on doing that here, after I finished crying my heart out..
How will I ever get back on my feet like this?
More than ever, I need stability, community and TIME to rebuild me and my life.
WHEN IS THIS GONNA HAPPEN?
Fuck Dream Check Friday.
I'm over it.
Life will get better.
Right?
Sure. It. Will.
Maybe.
I can rewind the clock to when I was seven years old, before we moved for the first of thirty seven times (before I turned sixteen). If I could do that, I would make sure my young self tracked down my father, just like my roommate's girlfriend did. And, maybe, he would have brought me to his house, where I would remain all my life, surrounded by a community of love, support and continuity...just like she did.
Just maybe, I could have been spared CUNTESSA.
Just maybe.
I'd be someone.
Somewhere.
Anywhere.
But.
Here.
With something.
Other than no way to come back from nothing.
Just MAYBE...
Not.
EVER.
I FUCKING give up.
