Sorry I haven't written in a while. Needless to say, been pretty dang busy lately. We moved into a new house. Stop that, reverse it: we moved into a DIFFERENT house. Where we WERE living was NEW. Yeah you could say I'm a little bitter. It's been pure BULLSHIT since day one. Let me start from the beginning. The landlords tell us that they want the house back on the market. They aren't willing to wait until our lease is up in June and they add that the rent will go up 300 bucks at that time should we choose to renew it. Grrr. So we decide we will go ahead and relocate since we will have the money because of our tax refund. So I look and look and get a newspaper every morning trying to beat someone else to my dream house {in my price range, it ain't happenin'} And nothing comes up that isn't a dump or way too far out of town. A guy I work with says, hey I just moved out of an awesome house, it's still empty the landlord wants me to find a renter yada yada. He makes it sound like it is just THE shit, three bedrooms two full baths, an insanely huge living room and an equally large dining room. He draws me a layout on a piece of paper and I'm sold. It's right in town, convenient, and meets my specs on bed/baths. I call the landlord and he never answers, I leave messages, etc. Should have taken it as a little hint from fate to NOT FRIGGEN RENT IT. A week and a half later, his so-called secretary returns my call. I tell her that we are interested and she tells my coworker to go ahead and give me the key. I am so excited because although the rent is barely in my budget, it seems like a dream house. BIG mistake. We start moving our things in on Saturday night, and since we are both working, decide to take that Monday off to get fully moved in. Todd goes there Sunday morning and calls me PISSED because someone has broken in and dumped out all the boxes we had brought over, poured a huge bottle of wine all over everything and then proceeded to throw the bottle through the drum kit. Then the bastard{s}take a jug of honey and dump it EVERYWHERE. The sight of honey makes me shudder now. So, if you think that was bad, it was already a disaster because of the mess the former renter. aka my coworker left for us. He had told me there was "only a few bags and things" that needed to be thrown away. He hadn't told me there was probably more like twenty five bags of trash, the place probably hadn't been vacuumed, swept, scrubbed ANYTHING in at LEAST month. It was repulsive. So I mean it's not like I didn't have enough shit to do without this vandalism. The cops come out and don't give a shit of course. So, I think to myself, never EVER rent somewhere without having a little looksie first. I have never done that before, but the jerk I work with seemed pretty clean cut and what not and I totally didn't expect it to be left in this sort of condition. I know hat you're thinking, could it get any worse? Oh yes. Yes it can. So after that fiasco, we get everything moved in with about a million and a half trips in the Kia and my Dad's truck. We turn on the water and...nothing. They must have just cut it off. Guess what else. It's the day before Mardi Gras. The water company is closed. We brainstorm for a bit and call the emergency line and to my surprise, they come and turn it on. They do, however, inform us that there is a mandatory $60 emergency fee that must be paid by 12 noon on the next day the offices are open. No problem. I call work and tell them I'll be late, and head downtown to the water company. After waiting in line a good twenty minutes, it's finally my turn. But OH NO they can't accept my mula without proof of residency, aka a lease. Problem is, I haven't signed a lease yet. The secretary who handles all that wanted us to wait until that following Friday. They say, well just call her and see if she'll fax over something. If only it were that easy. I call her and the phone makes this weird noise. Sounds like a fax. I know the number is right so I just sit there, unsure on what to do. I call work and say I'll be more that a little late. I ponder over my plight for a while and it comes to to call the landlord. Funny thing is, he has no clue who I am, that I've rented the house, that it was vandalized {although I did report that fact to his secretary who said she would tell him} After we get it all straightened out, he says he'll get in touch with her for me. We hang up and I'm not sure if SHE will call ME or what. i wait another fifteen minutes and finally she calls, we get it all straightened out and she faxes over what the water company needs...after I wait in line again, of course. That's all for now but don't worry, PLENTY more stories to tell on the following days and the fiasco with Comcast Cable and Internet, as well as the demise of my career at SKCO Automotive. Stay tuned.
