Desperation is the Mother of Change

This week has been a long and painful reminder of days past, when I had all the coping skills of a dead hamster. The long fight I've been having with the superintendents of the apartment I rent came to a head and I got an illegal eviction notice. After that, I discovered they've been stealing my mail. Ordinarily, that wouldn't be such a big deal in the age of electronic billing. Why it matters to me is because I participate in a lot of mail-based craft swaps and they swiped a package of items that someone took the time and care to hand craft for me. The thought of all their hard work ending up unopened in a garbage dump breaks my heart.

Then the transmission on my truck went and died. It's going to cost me $600 to find out what's wrong with it, and that's before they actually fix anything.

How the heck am I supposed to move without a vehicle? On top of which, if I have to put that kind of money into diagnosing it, where in hell am I going to come up with first and last from?

Yeah, I know. Everyone is supposed to have 3 months of emergency money saved. Well, I live in an expensive city and make just over minimum wage. That's not going to happen.

It's not all bad. A friend volunteered to let me stay in her spare room til I find my feet, so I'm not homeless. I'm grateful for that.

The tricky people at the credit card company recently increased my limit, so I can maybe get the truck fixed. That's a plus.

The friendly representative at Canada Post told me they have delivery confirmation on the swap package I never received, meaning that the friend who sent the item can request that they open an investigation which will likely result in charges being laid against my supers. Almost puts a smile on my face.

I can file a complaint with the Landlord and Tenant Board, which won't mean I don't have to move, but will ensure that my absentee landlord will find out exactly what his idiotic supers are doing. Hurrah?

In summary, it could turn out to be positive all around. Sadly, I don't have the mental wiring to accommodate a long term outlook. Mentally I'm in hell. It's stress on top of stress. The thought of going home on transit after work makes me physically sick to my stomach. I don't want to deal with the supers or even see them.

There's a saying that life never gives you more than you can handle. I must be one tough bitch because I get kicked in the teeth on a regular basis. There must be something essential to the working of the world that I'm missing. Maybe I'm too trusting, or I don't look before I leap or some other such crap. All I know is that there's got to be a better way to live than having everything come crashing down around my ears once a year.

I'm making new plans. Big plans that involve being able to escape from ever having a landlord or a super ever again. Making things happen is something I can do. It's time.

Could be that the universe needed to give me a giant kick in the pants to get past my fears. Desperation is the mother of change.