Tuesday, 7 July 2009
(Please bear with me. We'll return to our regular programming shortly.)
So, after a two-year battle against aging yuppie landscum, I got evicted from my home of nearly three decades so that 'extensive' renovations could be done. I have the right to return but the landscum has the right to fuck me around for as long as he wants and, given the acrimony, that may run into years.
So, I moved in with sweetie, the man I've loved for longer than I lived in that apartment, but also the man I married so we'd have some legal connection without having to live together. Tried that, didn't work so good.
But I can't work at sweetie's and I needed to store my shit.
Well, happy happy. I found a funky cheapish place for that. Twenty-minute walk from sweetie's. No lease, no crap.
Until Friday. Then I was informed by that landscum's agent that their plans for the place had changed and I have to leave.
I don't know what I did to deserve this, but if I figure it out, I'll let you know.
Because you seriously do not want this to happen to you.