Today I felt inspired to do this:
You might be thinking “What, I did not subscribe to a crafting blog. What the eff is this?”
Don’t worry, this is NOT a crafting blog, nor will it ever be. So let me explain. Bit of background info: I am renting a bedroom in a sketchy, messy 3 bedroom house that’s occupied by a family. Why? I moved to Colorado after losing my job in Massachusetts, and needed to lock down a random sublet so that I’d have a place to live while going on job interviews and just trying to make my way out here. I found this place on Craigslist, was stressed out and sick of searching for apartments and jobs, and mailed them a check, sight unseen.
I knew it wasn’t going to be ideal, but I didn’t know it would be like this.
I think they took the concept of a “laundry room” literally, because there are clothes EVERYWHERE. I’m assuming they’re still like that, because I haven’t been down there since my first time doing laundry. I’d be okay with wading through other people’s dirty clothes, but it also smells like cat pee and, on top of that, a few days ago there was a sewage leak. Once a personal preference, now a safety hazard. I’m out of clean underwear.
Mostly uninhabitable, 2 points for irony! The one time I sat on the couch was the last time I sat on the couch, frankly because I’m afraid of whatever is lurking in the cushions that’s feeding off Cheetos from 2008.
I met the mother, Buffy, when she was talking on a Nokia cell phone as she walked through the front door. She hung up and told her husband:
“We can’t use this cell phone, they can track it. We need to get another cell phone.”
Then she turned to me and explained that Hunter’s father was trying to find out where his son was because they just got custody of him (red flag #1). Then she introduced herself to me. Best first impression ever!
(Later, the mother told me that she’s a germaphobe. Several times, actually. Please refer to the previous pictures of the house, and let me know if you find this amusing too.)
This is the 2 year-old girl who follows me around everywhere. She’s cute but she often stinks because her parents don’t bother changing her diaper or her clothes.
This picture represents the 6 year-old BONUS child named Hunter. I don’t have a picture of him because I don’t like him, so this picture of a redhead should suffice. I say “bonus” child because the day I moved in, the father sat me down in the foyer (nearly gave me a heart attack — who “sits” their tenants down upon arrival?) and told me that, surprise, Hunter would be living with the family. I was informed that Hunter is the wife’s child from an abusive relationship that she “just got out of.” ..Red flag #2.
Every wall in the living room is known as “The Wall,” which is a more spacious form of “The Corner.” As in “Hunter!??? GET ON THE WALL!” Said child stomps over to The Wall, faces it, and the parents continue watching TV. Child turns and watches the TV. Child stands there for 45 minutes, because he spoke while on The Wall and thus extended his initial “minute” on the wall by 44 minutes. Actually, even a well-behaved “minute” can last 20 minutes — I’ve seen it a couple times.
This is not a recommended form of parenting.
Sooooooo how does the Karma’s a Bitch mason jar fit into all this?
Well, for the past four or five days, the family’s been gone.
“I found out that they’re not coming back,” said the shirtless/hairy man that also rents a room in the house (another surprise). He was on his way to the bathroom holding a shower caddy. One perk of living with creepy older men is that you get to see them on their way to shower or use the bathroom, and then get visualizations of things to come. Ugh.
“What? Wait.. what? I thought they owned the house?” I was surprised, but also kind of amused at the same time. Nothing really shocked me at this point in the game.
“No, I guess they rent it.” Aha.. Renters were renting to renters. Quite clever of them. “Yea, Buffy’s sister came by earlier this morning when you were gone, and she said that they weren’t coming back, and she asked me if I wanted to keep the cats.”
I wasn’t too surprised that they had skipped out on their own rent, left the place a complete mess, and left most of their belongings, but I was surprised that they were completely fine with abandoning two cats to basically die of starvation. Cool.
On one hand, their leaving might be an upgrade because the cats were neglected in the first place. My second week here, I noticed that their water bowl was empty and I filled it up. The black little guy ran right over and drank like he just stumbled across an Oasis on the Oregon Trail. I’ve been feeding them ever since. The family also has a puppy, who they apparently decided was worthy of bringing along. He spent most of his time on a chain in the dirt backyard or locked in the shed overnight.
I know this is a humor blog, and I was trying to keep a good sense of humor in a situation that I couldn’t control, but stuff like this just makes me hate humanity. Sure, there are some decent people out there, but there are way more pieces of sh*t who are completely irresponsible and assume that their actions don’t have consequences. Or worse, they know exactly what they’re doing but they don’t care. I feel like the past couple of years I keep meeting more of these people.
So.. telling myself “karma is a bitch” is sometimes the only thing that settles me down. I don’t believe in any god so I’m not capable of thinking that someday they’ll meet their maker in a firey pit of misery. I guess I believe that “you get what you give” and “what goes around comes around.” Actions have reactions. When you feed your 2 year old a steady diet of soda, chips, fried chicken, and pizza, she’s probably going to resent you when she hits 13 and gets picked on for being overweight. She’ll hate you even more when she realizes there’s no money for college because you skipped out on your rent 800 times. And in some mysterious way, when she runs away at 17, that’s karma coming back at you for when you decided to abandon two cats and leave them to starve and die. Karma’s a bitch.