Skip to main content

The Apartment Chronicles, Part One

I consider myself to be an easy-going kinda girl. I try to live by Romans 12:18, "If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men." Having said that, I'm about to start raising Cain in my new apartment.

As I said before, my landlord -- who happens to be the brother of a friend of mine -- didn't have my apartment ready when he said he would. He told me that it was his intention to have the place ready by the first. It's now the 8th, and it's not any closer to being ready than it was last week. I'm trying to be patient, but it's getting harder and harder every day.

In the landlord's defense, he's having health problems. He was recently diagnosed with diabetes. I've never had to deal with a potentially fatal situation, but I don't think it's easy. My guess is that he's been sick all along and didn't realize what was wrong with him. In addition, he had the flu last weekend.

As if that weren't bad enough, he and the nephew who's been helping him with this project have had a disagreement. That means that he hasn't touched the place since the 3rd, when he came in to touch up what the nephew had half-heartedly done.

I'm trying to be understanding of his issues. I really am. However, the longer I stay in this raggedy place, the madder I'm getting. It wouldn't be so bad if my family weren't egging it on. My mother and my uncle, who live in Texas, are about two steps off the plane, and my crazy cousin keeps talking about getting her gangsta friends involved. They've all decided that I shouldn't give Mr. Wonderful another dime until everything is up to snuff. I agree.

I guess the thing that's making angry is that I feel like I'm being taken advantage of. If I were a stranger with no ties to his family, this situation would've been taken care of post-haste. Since I'm just his step-sister's friend, it doesn't matter if I live in squalor. Also, I think he believes that I should be so grateful not to be on the street that I won't demand what I'm paying for. The devil is a liar, and my landlord is a fool if thinks I'm going down without a fight.

I finally had a chance to speak to him today. Now he's saying that he'll get everything done once I pay him the rent. I really don't know what to do. HELP!!!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On Barack, the Nomination, and Black Love

I'm so excited about Barack Obama! I know I'm just joining the teeming millions when I say that, but I think something this big is worth repeating. Never before in the history of our country has a Black man been in a position to lead the free world, and it feels good. I'm so glad that I've lived long enough to see this day.

Beside the fact that Barack is a great candidate for the Democratic party, I'm moved by his relationship with Michelle. Not since The Cosby Show have we seen a successful Black couple who have a genuine and sincere love and respect for one another. What makes their relationship so special is that it's real -- not the product of someone's imagination.

I obviously don't know Michelle Obama, but I want to grow up to be just like her. I love the fact that she doesn't NEED Barack. She's strong, smart, and successful in her own right, yet secure enough to fall back and be supportive of her man. That's something that all y…

In My Feelings...Again

There are times when I think I should change the name of this blog. Today I do NOT feel like a diva. I feel like a pitiful mess of a woman who's completely in my feelings.

I hate it when I get here.

I was minding my business last night when Juice hit me up. (Remind me to tell you about him later.) He wanted to hang out because we'd actually said we would. But he's he's only after one thing and I wasn't inspired enough to venture out to deal with him, so I told him I was in for the evening.

At the same time, New Boo asked me if I'd done my hair.

Let's be clear. My hair in and of itself isn't necessarily that big a deal. However, him asking me about it could indicate that I was on his mind and that he cared about me in more than a horizontal way. That would be awesome...but I know it's not true. Even though I engaged in conversation with him -- because that's what I do -- it was painful.

I am lonely. I want to be with someone who cares about me. I…

Out of Time

Time. You always think you have more...until you don't. I'm there.

I just left the doctor, where we discussed my fibroid. She said it was huge. So huge, in fact, that she couldn't get it all. If there's a need for another surgery, it'll be a hysterectomy.

I want babies. I want to be someone's mother. I also want to be someone's wife before I become someone's mother. And therein lies my dilemma.

It would be stupid for me to have a baby with My Teddy Bear. That's the reality of my life right now. But it would be even stupider to have a child with New Boo. Not only does he not want any more babies, he does't take care of the ones he already has. I would be an absolute idiot to attempt procreation with him. And as quiet as it's kept, I'm not interested in raising a child alone. I want my baby to have a mother AND a father.

So here I am, a 46-year-old woman who's run out of time.