Same old same old
So last night the tenants of one of the new state houses next to us turned their music on. We’ve met them a few times - a nice lady and her kids - so Steve went over to politely ask if they could turn it down. It was the lady’s scummy boyfriend (why do women countenance such dropkicks?) sitting there with the door open and the stereo blasting. Steve said “Hi guys, would you mind turning it down a bit? It’s quite loud down at our place.”
And he went off at him. “F--- you, it’s not even loud.”
“I’m just asking,” said Steve.
So they grudgingly agreed to close the door. At 2:30 on Saturday morning another property blasted UB40 till 3:15. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so mentally drained by all of this that I can barely write. I don’t want to downgrade the experiences of people who have real things to worry about in life, but I feel traumatised. It feels like we live in a war zone, that any second someone’s going to put the noise on and we’re going to be instantly adrenalized and unable to sleep and angry and upset and we have no control over any of it. And if it were just one property, we might be able to handle it. But it’s FOUR. And as soon as the state house right next to us is tenanted, it’ll be five. Five state houses, all on our immediate boundaries, blasting the life out of us, so animal-like that they can’t even respond to a polite request without a “F--- you”. Housing New Zealand has taken our quiet, sunny, peaceful, private, birdsong-drenched property and turned it into a nightmare. They’ve cut down trees, mutilated hedges so they’ve died, removed all our screening, reneged on promises to fence everything adequately, and plonked a house so close to our bedroom that we’ll be able to hear every word the tenants say. They’ve completely screwed us, and there’s nothing we can do. It’s been on the market for eight weeks, and I honestly don’t think its going to sell. It’s all up to God now, because nothing else is going to help us.
And he went off at him. “F--- you, it’s not even loud.”
“I’m just asking,” said Steve.
So they grudgingly agreed to close the door. At 2:30 on Saturday morning another property blasted UB40 till 3:15. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so mentally drained by all of this that I can barely write. I don’t want to downgrade the experiences of people who have real things to worry about in life, but I feel traumatised. It feels like we live in a war zone, that any second someone’s going to put the noise on and we’re going to be instantly adrenalized and unable to sleep and angry and upset and we have no control over any of it. And if it were just one property, we might be able to handle it. But it’s FOUR. And as soon as the state house right next to us is tenanted, it’ll be five. Five state houses, all on our immediate boundaries, blasting the life out of us, so animal-like that they can’t even respond to a polite request without a “F--- you”. Housing New Zealand has taken our quiet, sunny, peaceful, private, birdsong-drenched property and turned it into a nightmare. They’ve cut down trees, mutilated hedges so they’ve died, removed all our screening, reneged on promises to fence everything adequately, and plonked a house so close to our bedroom that we’ll be able to hear every word the tenants say. They’ve completely screwed us, and there’s nothing we can do. It’s been on the market for eight weeks, and I honestly don’t think its going to sell. It’s all up to God now, because nothing else is going to help us.