I’m homeless again.
I moved into a great house last Sunday. Yes, only five days ago. I have just given my two weeks notice, and am frantically looking for somewhere else to live.
Why? The owner is nuts. He’s all talk about how he wants this to be a home for whoever is living here, but then he gets angry and swears the house down if you put a bowl back in the wrong place after washing it. Seriously. The F-word for a bowl in the wrong place. At first I thought, “Oh no, what have I gotten myself into?” Then I waited until he’d calmed down, and we chatted, and he showed me around the house, and I thought, “Yes, he’s a control freak, but he’s nice enough if you don’t do anything wrong. I can put bowls in the right places, and do everything else his way, because he’s actually led me through the house and explained it all step-by-step. There will be no surprises.”
I got a text when I was out this evening. “Hi Bruce and Emma. Guys I don’t do locked doors in my house. If you don’t want people in your room thats your call, yet just say. If you want to lock your doors find some other place to live. Its a bit strange for me, considering you hav my stuff in the room yet also a safety issue.”
Okay, yes, I’m using a bed and a desk and a small set of drawers provided by him. That doesn’t give him the right to enter my room whenever he wants (I’d been gone about 20 minutes. He must have tried to go in my room to know I had locked it).
I told him I needed to lock my room for insurance. His response? “No. Thats not happening.” I said I’d like to talk to him about it face-to-face. I’d be home in half an hour.
Two hours later, he arrived home, I asked him what reason he would have to need to go into my room while I was away without telling me. “Not negotiable.”
So I’m looking for somewhere else to live. It’s not easy. All the places I’ve seen so far are either
- over $130 a week. I simply can’t afford that.
- smoking flatmates. Gross.
- flatmates with babies. If I was in a position to deal with living with a baby, I’d have my own.
- family homes where I would feel like I was an outsider all year – the weird renter.
I’m starting to look further and further away from the campus, which will put up my transport costs. Plus there’s the fact that I JUST got myself fully moved in and sorted. Now I have to pack up my life again.
Not feeling great right now, but I’m going to have a shower and sleep on it, and meet a distant relative in the morning (My great grandmother was her grandmother’s sister – not sure what that makes us). Knowing someone (anyone) in the city will help. A good friend has put me in touch with another friend of hers, too, which will be good, and I have the other flatmate, Bruce, who is in total agreement with me on the issue and is also moving out. So I know three people in Tauranga now, besides the psycho owner of the house I currently live in.
I knew it was wrong when there was no written agreement. I thought, “It’ll be okay, common sense will prevail.” No. Never moving in anywhere without a tenancy agreement again.
Okay, I really need to relax and get some sleep now. I will not let this stress me out.