Sunday, January 6th, 2013
I started writing this Sunday, but it was just a wretched day for me and I couldn’t write anything that wasn’t going to be sad or repetitive and I am doing this blog challenge to enjoy writing and to reach into my soul to find things from my life to share and to expound on. And in my 37 years I have a lot more than heartbreak and loss to talk about, no matter what the topic is.
So I apologize for my getting off course a bit over the past few days, my head is clearer, things are looking up again and my heart & soul are feeling calm, for lack of a better word.
There had been signs of trouble from the start. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned in 37 years now, it’s that if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it’s probably not an alligator.
Two years ago I moved. And then I had to move again. And sadly, AGAIN. In 6 months, I had to move a 3 times. It was AWFUL. There’s nothing more depressing or lonely than having to keep relocating just as you get settled and ESPECIALLY when you’re moving out of an apartment you adored after a painful break-up. Luckily, 3rd time WAS a charm and I’ve been in my current place exactly 1 year and 9 months, with no moves on the horizon.
There were signs of trouble in both places I had to move from, RIGHT FROM THE BEGINNING!! But ever the optimist, I wanted to forge ahead because I knew better. (Dumbass!)
As always I was trying to look at the positives! Renting a room in someone else’s place meant A LOT less money spent. A chance to catch up on debt. An opportunity to travel and try new things. Well, uh, that lasted NO JOKE 3-weeks. I lived there for 5 officially, but THANK GOD for Lindsay being away I was able to spend 2 of the 5 weeks at her home while she as out-of-town over Thanksgiving!
The “friend” I rented from never had the place cleaned, she had lived in it SEVEN YEARS and never had it professionally cleaned, which might be okay but she was the worst cleaner EVER!!! My room itself was my safe little haven and I loved that room, at least I have fond memories of THAT! But the place was disgusting, I couldn’t use the kitchen it was so filthy and my “roommate” was such a slob that her room was over-wrought with dirty laundry that when she opened her bedroom door you could smell it down the hallway!! It was NASTY. It would never have worked for me in my 20’s it definitely wasn’t going to work for me at 35! Not to mention, she had done a bunch of alterations on things, and left the scraps all over the floor of the living room, so I couldn’t let Riley down for fear she may step on a needle or some other scary pointy object. After 3 miserable weeks of trying to pretend it was working, I reluctantly admitted to my parents I was miserable and could not stay living there anymore. It was a dump. Which btw, it is still referred to as. The Dump. I wanted to save money, I wanted a fresh start and instead, I got myself a 2nd move within 5-weeks. (Thank GOD for some AMAZING friends like Lanae & Rene & Lindsay or I don’t know what I would’ve done!).
So, the search began. I don’t have a great credit from my past with my abusive ex, yeah, on top of being abusive verbally & physically he helped screw up my credit. So I was nervous I couldn’t find anything I’d like on my own, and I wanted something at least comparable to where I had lived prior. Apartment hunting in LA is NEVER fun, but, it seemed even less fun because I was doing it alone, and I was desperate! I found a VERY neat (or so I thought!) little place just down the street from The Dump that was a split level, in an enclosed community, with my own parking spot, they took dogs, it had heat and A/C and they accepted my application. The problem was and should’ve been a red flag FROM THE START, the last tenant had lived there 35-years (so basically MY ENTIRE LIFE at that point) and the place was a DISASTER when I first saw it. I (stupidly) thought “ooh how neat, everything will be brand spanking new for me!”, and after living at the dump, new stuff with no funny smells sounded GREAT!
So, remember when I said 35 years she’d lived there? They failed to mention until I moved in and started meeting some of the neighbors that the woman hadn’t lived there in over 10-years she was a hoarder and the place was used for all her crap!!! Okay, still wasn’t too worried, it was seemingly well refurbished and I was happy. I still continued to take Riley with me everywhere because now she hadn’t been left alone in over 6-weeks, I couldn’t very well just leave her alone in our new apartment, so, back to shlepping her with me.
I won’t even go into detail what happened in the 4th week I was living there, that’s another post, but, I had an accident with a knife and my left pinky finger that needed stitches but because I didn’t have insurance I wouldn’t go to the hospital. I remember that night well, In fact, for so many reasons I don’t think I will EVER forget it. I sat on my 3 stairs, wrapped my hand tightly, held it over my head and cried. And cried and cried. The tears wouldn’t stop. Thank god AGAIN for Lanae, who single-handedly saved my left pinky finger over the next 5-months, and don’t think I don’t know how grateful I am every single day.
It was as I was sitting on those stairs crying and probably in shock from the finger accident that I realized this apartment freaking sucked. The walls had no insulation. The heater worked but made the loudest sounds ever. The sun beamed into my bedroom through blackout curtains, shades, EVERYTHING starting at 5am daily, the front door didn’t have the proper plastic around the door frame so cold air seeped in ALL THE TIME and, if that wasn’t enough, I could freaking hear my neighbor upstairs alarm clock go off every morning at 6:45am, FOR AN HOUR!!!!
And guess what, that’s not the worst of it. The worst of it is, that they didn’t change ANYTHING but the carpet and slap some paint on the walls to cover up the 35 years of hoarding that had gone on. I would have lived with it, because there were unique aspects to the apartment, and it was in an AWESOME location (and in LA location IS EVERYTHING!). But after my finger incident, I became acutely aware that you couldn’t take longer than a 7 minute shower without the water turning freezing cold. Well, I don’t take long showers to begin with, but, here I have a hand that has to be covered in plastic to shower, and I have to be in and out in under 7-minutes?!?!? UM NO.
Well, my friends, I lasted there for 4-months, fighting and arguing with the management company and owners regarding the lack of hot water until the very end, at which point I decided I could not live that way anymore and luckily came across the place where I’m living now. (Sidebar, it’s never been resolved and as I write this post it makes me so angry that they were able to treat me like that and I was too weak at the time to fight back! I wonder what the statute of limitations is!)
My place now has its pitfalls like any place does, but, I can take a long hot shower, I can leave Riley, then adopted Oliver not long after moving in and guess what, I can leave them here all day, they have a patio and a doggy door!!! I love my place now. I know now and believe, that I was meant to move here and that the other stops along the way were just to make me appreciate the things I did have a little bit more. And let me tell you, not a day goes by that I don’t think back to those FREEZING showers with my wrapped up hand and tear up at how awful those 4-months were.
There were signs from the start, I should never have tried moving in with a “friend” at 35 years old, I should never have moved into an apartment that had been vacant and lived in by a hoarder for 35-years and well, I have and had no one to blame but myself! I’m over it, I’ve moved on, but, it’s good to remember that when there are signs from the start HEED THE WARNINGS!!!! ~ traci xoxo