Unquiet Ghosts

Examples of what we won’t miss about living here:

The hillbilly tenants from hell let their toilet constantly overflow down through the floor onto our washer in the basement.  We can’t complain or notify the landlord, because we fear retaliation by these cave people.

Last time their sewage backed up into the whole basement, due to being stupid, and we called the plumbers, the psycho-girl downstairs went totally ballistic at E for no reason whatsoever.  We just want to live here in peace until we can move, so we have to keep to ourselves so as not to provoke more meltdowns.

It’s spring, and I’m itching to go outside and putter around in the garden, but the rednecks loiter out there day and night, spitting on the porch, smoking like chimneys, waving guns around with their kids, and looking like cocked triggers themselves, so we’re reluctant to even go downstairs.

They have people and drugs coming and going, making a huge racket, far into the night, while their little kids rampage and scream.  They refuse to lock the outer doors, no matter how many times break-ins occur in the neighborhood.  But again, we have to just put up with it so we can stay safe until we move out.

We feel like caged animals in our own home, which isn’t a home.  But it gives us all the more incentive to get out of town ASAP.  This is a place full of bad karma, painful memories, and unquiet ghosts.  Just making a fresh start, a clean slate, someplace we can do laundry without sewage, and gardening not at gunpoint, will be a vast improvement.  It’s the little things…

In the meantime, we skulk about like caged animals, awaiting emancipation.  That day can’t come soon enough.



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