Finally, the day we have all been waiting for has arrived! The day that my old landlady unlocks the door and lets us get back into our old house to get the stuff we left there while we were in the middle of moving out two months ago!!!
Okay, to recap the sitch: In June I lived in a cute old townhouse on a historic street in Hamilton Heights. The landlady was a little kooky, but you know--aren't they all? So she stored trash in the first floor--it never really affected us and we got discounted rent because she would never get around to fixing stuff. Then our ceiling caved in almost killing my sister and I and damaging a lot of our stuff, so we decided to move out. We packed up in a hurry and moved as soon as we could find a new place, but before we were done the crazy landlady locked the inner door that had never been locked before so we didn't have a key to get back in and get the rest of our things out like all the food that was in the fridge and E's artwork and plants. Our other roommate was in Indonesia for the summer and all of her stuff got trapped in there before we could get movers to take it to storage. So all summer long I have been calling and harassing this lady to unlock the door and let us have our stuff. Finally our old roommate came back to town and threatened to call the police, and that was the final straw that made the landlady do something.
The frustrating this is that this crazy lady has been going to that house periodically over the last two months because when my sister and I went there tonight to pick up our stuff, the entire foyer of the house that used to be nice and clean, is now filled with bags of empty bottles, broken furniture, styrofoam and other random things that the lady has pulled from trash heaps and dragged in. She has a mental disease, undiagnosed except by me, that causes her to collect and hoard things that she's never going to do anything with. She thinks she can get new renters, but no one is ever going to put up with that. E and I could hardly get in the door--we had to leave the rolling cart outside while we made trips in and out, through the garbage labyrinth, to get our things out. It was disgusting. The plants are dead, the food in the fridge moldy, and everything is coated in plaster dust. E said it was like visiting a graveyard, and finding all her dead belongings. It was quite creepy.
We didn't get everything--one trip was enough to wear us out. K is getting a moving truck on Monday to move her things, and since her new place is just a block away from our new place, E and I can piggyback and get the rest of our things then. I will be so happy when I am finally rid of that crazy landlady!
1 comment:
I'm pretty sure here mental illness has been recognized by anyone who has ever spoken with her. You're not alone. =)
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