here’s the shit that’s going on in my life.
so basically, in april i moved into this utter shithole in hackney with my awesome boyfriend alex. we found it, because the landlord was the mother of a friend who shall remain unnamed for the sake of. well. something.
so anyway. basically, here’s what happened. we moved in, it was shit, i was polite and said only positive things like… “yeah, well the carpets might be a little worn, but it’s really well lit and uhm the kitchen surfaces are nice…”
the day after we moved in, we agreed, as a flat, to take the dishwasher for a test run.
except after half an hour, the kitchen floor had flooded, and the unnamed friend (uf, let’s just make this easier for everybody) was out. when he came home, the ceiling in his room directly below the kitchen had collapsed. completely. the entire plasterboard was in pieces. there were cigarette packets stuffing the innards of the house, and rubble and rocks all over the place. because his mum had plumbed the dishwasher herself, might i add.
so, that was all fine and well. and we got a cat. which was nice.
the world’s rainiest summer began. and he didn’t have the money to fix the hole in the ceiling. and the house was extremely damp, because, well, england is shit. and then, uf went away for the summer. and didn’t leave us contact details.
and my room got black mold all over the wall.
so fine, whatever, it tried to contact him for two weeks because alex is allergic to penicillin and we basically gave up, and went to stay with his grandparents in wales.
when we got back, the house was infested with bedbugs and woodlice. and the cat and hedgehog had insects crawling all through their coats that wouldn’t die when i frontlined the cat. and then uf came home and directly disobeyed my request not to frontline her twice, because she was already too young to be treated for fleas, and effectively poisoned her. but whatevs she was fine. and i didn’t kick up a fuss or anything.
despite him being home, uf- who was supposed to act as the landlord in his mother’s absence, refused to paint over the black mold. and then when we went away to wales again, he rented alex’s room out to another friend of ours without telling us. this guest stayed for three months, and all the while the uf received double rent, which we never complained about.
and then, the houseguest began to become a health hazard. we had black mold, an infestation of insects that uf couldn’t afford to exterminate, and a boy who slept in the same bed as his pizza boxes, which were simultaneously used as plates and ashtrays. forks began disappearing around the house (he tossed them instead of washing them), and people coming into the house would comment on the strong odour emanating from the back room… it was very embarrassing to say the least.
the cutlery, which was mine, was never replaced.
the final straw was when my mum came to visit. uf had decided that that particular weekend, after months of warning, was the time to pull up the carpets and expose the mildewed floorboards. and when my mum came, all hell broke loose, and she essentially forced alex and i into moving. which we were very reluctant to do, because we wanted to maintain a positive relationship with the uf.
ahem. then. a week later, i received an angry text message from him, demanding to speak to me regarding an email from my dad asking for the 600 pound deposit back (a very polite email, which he was completely within his right to send ). uf said that it was a kick in the face, and that i was a terrible flatmate and didn’t deserve the deposit back because of this.
and i didn’t say anything. i was very polite. then, he said he never wanted to speak to me again.
and i called him childish, to which he retorted “childish? says the girl with the prescription drug problem?”
this is the first i’ve heard of me having a problem with prescription drugs…
what the fuck?
so… i decided, against my better judgement, to ask him what he was referring to (in not at all a hostile manner, might i add). and apparently, what had happened is, his family friend, our next door neighbour, had misplaced his sleeping pills the day that i’d come over to play his piano in june. and said that i had stolen them - he was unwaveringly sure that i was desperate to uhm.. get sleepy?!
now, this is a ridiculous allegation, given that i have my own prescription to sleeping pills, which i don’t use.
so basically, he said he’d turn me into the police, destroy my education, unveil me to my parents for who i really am, etc etc etc if my dad continued to ask for the deposit back. and i kind of lolled. because, as if i stole somebody’s medication.. what a fucking trashy thing to do!!! but i cried quite a lot, you know, before i lolled.
but. he, basically, hadn’t put the 600 pounds in the deposit scheme. so we were entitled to it back - and three times the amount. so he folded. but not before i was accused of causing the 450 pounds worth of damage inflicted by the dishwasher, because, apparently, six months after the incident, the story has changed to that i used the dishwasher without his permission.
anyway, ineloquent rant over.
sad i lost a friend, but he was obviously a shithead.
first thing: my cat got fleas a couple weeks ago… now, usually, I’d freak the fuck out… because… ew.. but I remained CALM calm calm and frontlined her, dewormed her, flea combed her. problem solved, right?
wrong. three weeks later, I’ve combed them out of my OWN hair. house has to be fumigated. literally head to toe I’m bitten. URGH.
second thing: OH MY GOD DAKTARIN MAKES YOUR HAIR GROW REALLY FAST NO JOKE OMG.
that is all.