The Tenant

It was another good day, mostly. The kids and I took a trip to see Aunt Becky and their cousins. We came home and took a trip to the creek, we caught one little crayfish and skipped rocks. And then we had steaks on the grill for dinner. That's when our good day came to a screeching halt.

I had written a note to my 'neighbor' that lives in the back efficiency apartment of the house. I have the entire house except for that, and I absolutely hate it. The current occupant is the one and only occupant I cannot seem to maintain a level of civility with. It began with the first time he was living there and one of the kids left the walkway door open. He came in, slammed the door and hollered "dumbass' loudly enough to be heard by the entire neighborhood. I have never seen him smile, or so much as say hello. Ever. So, my note consisted of a request to have him not drop his cigarrette butts in my driveway (and I did say please). I also told him that I put a can on the stoop so that he could dispose of them there. Well, apparently I offended him quite badly, because he knocked on my door and told me if I leave another note he's going to report me for trespassing. (In a year, it was the second one). He also called me a 'hog' (in front of my kids) because the kids bikes were in the driveway and I had a folded up kennel, carseat and our shoes in the entranceway. It didn't seem to matter that even with the kids bikes technically IN the driveway, there was still room enough for three cars to park and that my things in no way prohibited him from entering the doorway or into his residence. Well, I have not had much back bone of late, and so, I cried. I can't seem to take a cross look from anyone without a tear. Tears and then the churning of my stomach. So he left and came back again, I had to ask..."Do you work at being miserable or does it come naturally?" That began another tirade...and thank God, Geoff, my employer at the Steakhouse dropped by to tell me I didn't have to work tomorrow night. He asked if I was ok, and the 'neighbor' got into his truck, pulled up in front of him instead of taking the opposite way down the street, like he was going to run him off the road. That was the end of that. But throughout the whole rest of the night, Derek asked me if I was ok, told me I looked sad. Derek even told me to make sure the doors were locked tonight, my poor kid. I called my landlord and told him that I am going to start looking for another place...it isn't a notice, just a heads up. We just didn't need this tonight. I totally didn't need it.

I wish that I had someone to sit on the front porch with me, with a cup of coffee, to talk about the good and bad stuff of the day. Instead, I am sitting at my desk typing my woes and joys into a blog, feeling like a jerk for requesting that my driveway be butt free and that something so stupid had to taint our Sunday night. Tomorrow another week begins, there are lunches to pack and clothes to lay out for work and school. And while I'm feeling quite blue, part of me wants to tell the 'tenant' to take his bad attitude and stick it up his...