Angry, Sad, and wondering what to do now
Ok, here’s the update on the moving saga. It’s going to be ranty and bitchy, so if you guys read it, be warned, because I’m not a happy creature at the moment. So last week, I got a voice mail from Marvin asking me when I planned on moving. I figured on NOV. 1 so we could gradually get my shit out so he could move his in. I asked Heather if that would be ok, and I emailed Marvin with my answer and I explained to him that I could not use my phone in Canada, so he’d have to email me until I got back. So, he tells other people that he’s “still looking.” I get a forwarded email from a third party where he’s going on about how my landlord won’t return his calls so he’s assuming he didn’t get it. I sent him a very firm email telling him that he needs to deal with me, and not other people. This is between him and I and I don’t want to find out about shit from other people. I also told him that the crying about the landlord not returning calls is bullshit, and he is to call him back. So the next day, I received an email from him stating that he got my apartment, and that he was going to sign the lease the next day. So, I arranged with Heather to come and get my couches first, and we’d gradually move my stuff. Marvin asked if I had any furniture for him. I told him I’d leave my dining set, because I wasn’t going to need it. So the next day comes. I get an email from him saying “We need to talk on the phone.” Now, here’s the thing. James can not stand Marvin. He tried to break us up two Christmases ago, and I won’t rehash all the other shit that happened later. James does not want Marvin having his phone number, because Marvin still is under this crazy delusion that they’re still friends. That is why I would not call him from James’s phone. So I emailed Marvin, and told him that we’d talk when I got back. Later that evening, I get an email from him saying he did not sign the lease, because he needs a fucking attorney to look at it. Keep in mind, this is a legitimate realty company. I asked him when he was to meat with this so-called attorney, and he did not respond. Then he sends me a random email telling me how he’s still looking at other places and that if he doesn’t hear back from them, he’ll take mine. He goes on about how he’s got to “think about the long term.” Keep in mind, the day before he was all gung-ho about signing the lease, and my leaving some furniture with him. So, fast foreword to last night. I got in late Saturday night, and had to work yesterday, so I figured I’d call him when I got home last night. I called, and guess what. I had a very heart-warming conversation with his fucking voice mail. I leave a message. Then I texted him. I get a text from him saying he’s going to call me in a few. Then, I get a message from someone else saying that he would respond to me tomorrow, and that he went to bed at 7:30. I’d finally had it with his shit and his mind games. So I got to work and sent him an email saying that I needed an answer no later than 11:15, which was my break time. I didn’t want to hear about attorneys, I didn’t want to hear about him looking at other places, and I didn’t want to hear about his “long term” plans. I wanted a YES or NO then and only then, and if I didn’t get it, I was going to tell my landlord that he wasn’t going to take it. The response I got was a very abrupt “no” because he didn’t want to be rushed. Come the fuck on. We only have two weeks left. How the fuck much more time did this fucking moron need? So I said that there was only two weeks left and I needed to know for *my* plans too. I’m very angry, and sad, because I really wanted to move in with Heather and the others, and now I don’t get to because this mother fucker had to be a stupid fucking moron and play his usual fucking mind games. He has a deadline to be out of where he is by the fourth of November, and for all I care, he can sleep on a bus bench on Mon-fucking-roe avenue, like the scum that he is. He can mooch off everybody like he always does, and I’d love to see him play his head games with some of those street people. He won’t last long. So I broke the news to Heather. I feel bad that I failed her. I feel like I inadvertently dicked her around, and she really needs the financial support as much as I do. She said it was all good, but I don’t know what to do now. I could wait until March, but that room may not be open then. I could go on Craig’s list and see if I can find someone, and I still might, but I’m not sure how long that’ll take. I’m not sure if I should sign a lease for next year or not. If I do, she might still have that room open, and I don’t think my landlord will let me out of it. If I don’t, She may have already found someone to take it, and I’ll be up shit creek with a tird for a paddle. So because of this fucking monkey-spank, I’m forced to gamble with it, and I don’t like it. OK, rant over. I feel much better, and I’ll go back to my regular posting soon.
Originally published at Life in the Nuthouse. Please leave any comments there.