Caterwauling

Guest room balcony

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Today’s entry is sponsored by the words “panic” and “attack.”

I learned that not only does my current apartment need two months’ rent to terminate the lease, but there’s an extra fee of a month’s rent to break it.

Slick bastards.

The options are:

A. Leave suddenly in the middle of the night; pay 2 months.

B. Give 60 days’ notice. Pay rent that whole time plus 1 extra month’s fee.

So, basically, the good people get screwed.

I asked Ghetto Cliche Latoya (with the five-inch-long-nails with which she text-messages the owner when I ask her for something) in the rental office (she was the one who screwed up my world when I was applying here and moving in) why on earth anyone would choose to pay more. She said “more time to get the money.”

Hmm. Smartest thing she’s said to me in five months.

So that leaves me paying three rents for three months. Well, “Paying” may be overstating the issue. Where am I going to find money with which to actually move?

Also, I have to drag the cats to the vet today. Neither one is eating, and they need their shots anyway. I know Maddie needs meds for her hyperthyroidism (while mine goes untreated…). The a/c in the car is broken and Mom needs money for her bills. And I ain’t got it.

I keep telling myself that all will be delightful in three months, just as long as I don’t want cable or Internet or food. It’s just GETTING there that’s going to drive me batshit.

But I’ll get there. Mark my words. …

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 29th, 2009 at 6:34 AM and is filed under Existential Meanderings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.