Wow! wow! and wow!
And wow again! Because it’s a 4-wows day!
It’s happening. It’s really happening! I’m a heartbeat — or four — from moving! I found, in a week’s time after the assault by my roommate, a new place to live! Plus some days for the paperwork, checking references & background and other required processing.
So call it two weeks and we’re good!
Not just a place to live did I find but a space I’ve been wanting and needing for a long time. Years. A small studio in a 1928 original boarding house that’s been divvied-up into odd-shaped apartments.
This is my re-entry into living alone since 2011, when I escaped Washington state/ Tacoma to save my life, literally.
The years since with roommates — don’t even wanna count the number! — and horror stories in varying degrees. I’m too happy to dampen the mood with recounting ’em even in brief so will mention only the “highlights.”
*There was the crazy mother-daughter team in Denver where the old woman cornered me in my room and threatened to call the police on some shit that in her self-delusional mind I’d done. “I know the police officer personally,” she threatened. She finally left my room and from then on my only time there was to sleep.
Otherwise I was spent ALL DAY every day hanging in cafes and killing time until I moved into a place that was little better it turned out!
* There was the woman, also dangerously unbalanced, I discovered, who changed the locks on me. In a blizzard. In Denver. The night before I was to start a new job. Leaving me homeless. In a blizzard. Or did I mention that?
Still pains me terribly to talk about it or remember it. It’s on the record, however, the crazed unstable woman who changed the locks in a blizzard and left me homeless the day before I started a new job. Then there was …
* … the woman roommate who stalked me. In the house. She was a liar and scary-controlling to boot. In the middle of the night while the other two roommates slept, she’d go through the shared areas of the house and put everything back into Home and Gardens picture-perfect position. If the bottle of dish soap was opened or slightly ajar, she’d fix it in the middle of the night. In the morning, you’d find the lid closed and the bottle facing picture-perfect straight. It was as if insane invisible gnomes lived there and rearranged things during the darkest of night.
Once she dumped out my pot of coffee, then with a straight convincing face told the main roommate / house owner that she hadn’t done it. And he believed her!
Never mind her CHEAP rose perfume she slathered on. So hideous that it triggered a severe respiratory/asthmatic attack and sent me puking in the toilet. I had to ask her to stop wearing it. Made no difference. Her scent was on EVERYTHING she owned and permeated the house.
I’ve always wondered what happened to those two and whether Christopher ever woke up to the dangerous woman that she is.
* The current roommate, a raging lunatic, who assaulted me in the living room. Unlike cases in Colorado, this time I filed a police report. It was / is the right thing to do and may help my cause later if it comes to that.
What do all these traumas across Denver metro and Arizona have in common?
Women. They assaulting ones, the crazed ones, the psychotic, the truly unstable and dangerous and dangerously unpredictable ones: all women. Enough said.
All the more glorious my impending move!! Tomorrow the lease. Then a furtive move under cover in the night when she sleeps to maintain my safety and prevent inflaming the roommate who knows not that I’m moving.
State law permits an immediate termination of the lease without penalties or $ obligations beyond those accrued to date of departure in cases of domestic abuse. Hers is assault and battery, which is prosecutable in civil court.
Since I’m not litigious — and hence hugely modern-day un-American!! person, I’m forgoing that option in favor of breaking all connections with the house and her. Forgoing that option in favor of moving forward. Forgoing that option in favor of inner peace.
Allllllmost there!! Alllmost free!