I can't think of a title when I'm trying to breathe.
Stayed home sick from work today. I joked yesterday about taking a mental health day, then WHAM! Felt fine until about 6 last night; by nine I was snuffling and wheezing. So much for karma.
I've been keeping busy lately cleaning and painting the upstairs apartment. I posted at the end of August how the neighbors from hell moved out. Well, they were worse than I could have imagined. Maggots. Roaches. Brown toilet. Moldy shower. Sticky, black carpeting. Filthy, filthy pigs, and what's worse, the county knew about the living conditions because the older child is autistic, as I guessed, and social workers were coming to their apartment to do intervention visits. I have pictures up here. (Yes, I trust you all.) I don't understand how people can live like that, and even less how they can think that's appropriate for raising children. I alternate between pity and disgust.
Anyway, I didn't truly realize how much noise they made until they left. And how wonderful it is to sleep without having to use a white noise machine and earplugs, and being able to sleep for several hours straight instead of waking up at every bang and thud. So after talking with the landlord, I decided to move upstairs. It's more or less starting from scratch; the carpeting and kitchen floor had to be ripped up and thrown away, and the bathroom fixtures need to be replaced. Every square inch has to be scrubbed clean and repainted. But in exchange for my labor, I get to do things my way, and to take all the time I need to move in. It's a little like home remodeling, without the hassle of actually owning. And as usual for my workaholic self, the busier I am, the less I think about my problems, which can't be all bad.
This entry was originally posted at http://gentlehum-mel.dreamwidth.org/2036.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
I've been keeping busy lately cleaning and painting the upstairs apartment. I posted at the end of August how the neighbors from hell moved out. Well, they were worse than I could have imagined. Maggots. Roaches. Brown toilet. Moldy shower. Sticky, black carpeting. Filthy, filthy pigs, and what's worse, the county knew about the living conditions because the older child is autistic, as I guessed, and social workers were coming to their apartment to do intervention visits. I have pictures up here. (Yes, I trust you all.) I don't understand how people can live like that, and even less how they can think that's appropriate for raising children. I alternate between pity and disgust.
Anyway, I didn't truly realize how much noise they made until they left. And how wonderful it is to sleep without having to use a white noise machine and earplugs, and being able to sleep for several hours straight instead of waking up at every bang and thud. So after talking with the landlord, I decided to move upstairs. It's more or less starting from scratch; the carpeting and kitchen floor had to be ripped up and thrown away, and the bathroom fixtures need to be replaced. Every square inch has to be scrubbed clean and repainted. But in exchange for my labor, I get to do things my way, and to take all the time I need to move in. It's a little like home remodeling, without the hassle of actually owning. And as usual for my workaholic self, the busier I am, the less I think about my problems, which can't be all bad.
This entry was originally posted at http://gentlehum-mel.dreamwidth.org/2036.html. Please comment there using OpenID.