Life is Strife

Here we go again, landlord problems.

On the day I left my final deposit and arranged for move in I asked the office if there were any restrictions on patio furniture/decoration. Since they’d put so much into refurbishing the complex I thought there might be. I was told “as long as it was tasteful” I could do what I wanted on the private patio but not at the front door.

I had my cement greyhounds moved out of storage to give them a new icy blue coat. I bought concrete blocks to whitewash then created a modest screen block around the patio perimeter.

The Silvestri faun from the City was hauled down and I bought a couple of nice patio chairs. The Red Lion from Fort Wayne was the finishing touch.

For three weeks I worked on the back 40. A woman would walk her dog daily then stop and stare at me. She never said a thing. I thought she was just a nosy neighbor.

As the project neared completion I ran into her in the parking lot. She said house rules forbade me from doing anything to the patio. I said I had permission from the office. She was insistent. I thought she was being awfully presumptuous so I asked who she was. She said she was the property manager.

Apparently tenants are held to a higher standard than “trained” staff. When I told her I had permission she said it was my fault for not reading the handbook too. When I asked why she waited so long to intervene, all she could say was she was sorry I was misinformed but there was nothing she could do about it.

We went back and forth along these lines for some time. Finally I said she was being arbitrary and unfair. She replied that I could exercise my option to move by giving a month’s notice at any time. Only 6 weeks and I’m already being threatened with eviction?

After my last escapade I just don’t have the fight in me. I caved and started squeezing the lawn ornamentation into my already crowded studio. I will deal with it eventually. In the meantime my bathroom is finally organized and complete.

When I was 6, Saturday mornings were spent at the dime store at Roscoe and White Oak in Northridge. I would blow my allowance then. I saved a couple of weeks to buy this piece. Originally there were two baby squirrels atached with a chain. She made me feel secure. The chain and babies were demolished long ago. I’ve been seeking that warm and fuzzy feeling ever since.