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The brain, it is not with the working so good, so I don't know if I can relate the tale accurately. But today, I very nearly burst a blood vessel, and not in a good way (although I'm thinking that the number of good ways of bursting a blood vessel is rather small).
Now, I've been in a horrid headspace for the last few for a number of reasons and/or random non-reasons, so my sanity buffer has dwindled down to close to nothing. It was so low at one point today that seeing a sign at the grocery store reading, "Are you ready for some football?" made me want to punch something. Yes, it was that bad. Prescription: get some rest and some peace and quiet, and try to find my brain again, just as soon as I've picked up![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rafaela.
On my way out the door, I found a slip of paper on our doorstep from the landlords: pay $104 in back rent in the next three days, or enjoy our eviction. Th'f—?!
See, we pay the rent religiously. A few other bills will sometimes end up late, but not that one, because that's the one that comes out of Anna's monthly deposit. So this slip of paper made no sense to me, especially since it was mentioning "late fees" and a highly variable "gas fee" that shouldn't have applied over the summer. So, off to the rental office I go, cash in hand just in case.
It turns out that the late fees were due to a misunderstanding (they had moved the grace period back 5 days, something that I had missed in a recent posting, grrrr), so we got that taken care of, and are on the right page now for next month. Swell. The vein-'sploding came when I asked for details on the gas fee, which I had understood would be for the winter only. She explained that it was written into the lease agreement that I'd signed in May, and went off to fetch my files to show me.
And pointed out that my rent had gone up by $75 since August 1st.
It what?
At this point, my lack of a sanity buffer was on the verge of causing me problems (of the "you really shouldn't throw furniture through your landlord's window" variety), especially since she was waving this piece of paper in front of me that I had apparently signed and agreed to, but had absolutely no recollection of the rent going up four months into the lease. Did I really screw up that badly? I finally gritted my teeth, cut her off as she went into a "tell you what I'll do" bit, handed her the money I had on hand and told her to pay off the part I was due and fix the rest of it later. Then I flipped out on Anna and went to sit on the curb and cry. Literally.
Ten minutes later, I got a phone call. That lease we were looking at? Not my lease. Neither of us had noticed that it had some other guy's name on it. Oy.
So, yes, everything's hunky-dory on that front (for now), which means that I am somewhat lighter in heart as I prepare to work my first overnight shift in six years, 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. I have a feeling I'll be shouting at some more signs before this is all over with.
Now, I've been in a horrid headspace for the last few for a number of reasons and/or random non-reasons, so my sanity buffer has dwindled down to close to nothing. It was so low at one point today that seeing a sign at the grocery store reading, "Are you ready for some football?" made me want to punch something. Yes, it was that bad. Prescription: get some rest and some peace and quiet, and try to find my brain again, just as soon as I've picked up
rafaela.On my way out the door, I found a slip of paper on our doorstep from the landlords: pay $104 in back rent in the next three days, or enjoy our eviction. Th'f—?!
See, we pay the rent religiously. A few other bills will sometimes end up late, but not that one, because that's the one that comes out of Anna's monthly deposit. So this slip of paper made no sense to me, especially since it was mentioning "late fees" and a highly variable "gas fee" that shouldn't have applied over the summer. So, off to the rental office I go, cash in hand just in case.
It turns out that the late fees were due to a misunderstanding (they had moved the grace period back 5 days, something that I had missed in a recent posting, grrrr), so we got that taken care of, and are on the right page now for next month. Swell. The vein-'sploding came when I asked for details on the gas fee, which I had understood would be for the winter only. She explained that it was written into the lease agreement that I'd signed in May, and went off to fetch my files to show me.
And pointed out that my rent had gone up by $75 since August 1st.
It what?
At this point, my lack of a sanity buffer was on the verge of causing me problems (of the "you really shouldn't throw furniture through your landlord's window" variety), especially since she was waving this piece of paper in front of me that I had apparently signed and agreed to, but had absolutely no recollection of the rent going up four months into the lease. Did I really screw up that badly? I finally gritted my teeth, cut her off as she went into a "tell you what I'll do" bit, handed her the money I had on hand and told her to pay off the part I was due and fix the rest of it later. Then I flipped out on Anna and went to sit on the curb and cry. Literally.
Ten minutes later, I got a phone call. That lease we were looking at? Not my lease. Neither of us had noticed that it had some other guy's name on it. Oy.
So, yes, everything's hunky-dory on that front (for now), which means that I am somewhat lighter in heart as I prepare to work my first overnight shift in six years, 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. I have a feeling I'll be shouting at some more signs before this is all over with.
