just shoot me and be done with it
So Ronni & dad inquired about my security deposit, so I called my ex-landlady, who said that getting the apartment fixed up would take up all of the security deposit plus a little more. The toilet needed fixing, the garbage disposal needed replacing, the bathroom sink needed fixing cuz it was stopped up, and they haven't done the cleaning yet...... I didn't really expect to get my security deposit back anyway.
My dad & Ronni are landlords and managers of a couple apartment complexes here in Santa Barbara, so they got a good idea of what to expect. They think I should get some money back, seeing as the deposit was $725. When I asked what they were going to do with the money, since I didn't really expect to get any back and I didn't know what the plan was anyway, Ronni turns to me and tells me in a voice that sounds so like my dad when he's talking down to me because I'm obviously not very smart and just plain retarded, "the plan was that we would take that money and put it into a bank account for you so you could use it to pay off some of your credit cards." And she keeps eye contact with me, with this expression of you poor thing, how pitiful that you have to ask. I felt my chest kind of ache, like the precursor of nausea brought on by loathing. It was so like my dad's mannerisms that it makes me sick, and with my dad right there in the same room and in the same conversation, I felt like I was in the company of spectral vampires that thrived on stealing any and all pleasantness out of my life.
God, please, please let me be hired this week.
My dad & Ronni are landlords and managers of a couple apartment complexes here in Santa Barbara, so they got a good idea of what to expect. They think I should get some money back, seeing as the deposit was $725. When I asked what they were going to do with the money, since I didn't really expect to get any back and I didn't know what the plan was anyway, Ronni turns to me and tells me in a voice that sounds so like my dad when he's talking down to me because I'm obviously not very smart and just plain retarded, "the plan was that we would take that money and put it into a bank account for you so you could use it to pay off some of your credit cards." And she keeps eye contact with me, with this expression of you poor thing, how pitiful that you have to ask. I felt my chest kind of ache, like the precursor of nausea brought on by loathing. It was so like my dad's mannerisms that it makes me sick, and with my dad right there in the same room and in the same conversation, I felt like I was in the company of spectral vampires that thrived on stealing any and all pleasantness out of my life.
God, please, please let me be hired this week.