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In my late twenties, I found myself venturing south, on my own after leaving a 5 year common-law relationship. I was determined to live on my own, however, rent needed to be paid and my pay cheques simply didn't meet the costs. Against my better judgement, I advertised and gained a roommate.
At first, she appeared to be a friendly person who I had much in common with. We both loved animals, we both were involved in the local SPCA and we both grew up in rural communities. Prior to moving in, we sat down and drew up a list of agreements - around chores, food and boyfriends. On the surface, everything seemed fair, she appeared to be honest. I quickly gained a roommate and a new friend.
Within the first week, I realized nothing was as it appeared. I worked between 50-80hrs/week and spent little time in the apartment. I'd come home to no food and a roommate demanding that it was my turn to go shopping. The first agreement around sharing food costs was quickly tossed out the door. I set up cupboards for her items, cupboards for mine and split the fridge in half. The sharing was over.
By the end of the month, I realized the agreement around chores was not being honoured. I'd walk into through the door - if I could open the door - to find garbage on the counters, food rotting in plates and cigarette butts lying everywhere. There were two open paths, one to the couch from the fridge and one to the bathroom. On many occasions, the foul odor from her bedroom seeped out into the main areas of the apartment and grabbed me in its' evil clutches, choking me until I finally ran out the door for begging for mercy!
After one very long day and night working, I walked in to see a plate fall to the floor and shatter. I jumped! No one was around and I believe the green mold monster finally arrived to do battle! Instead, it was my cat trying to negotiate around the plates, pots, pans, cups, glasses and silverware lying all over the cupboard and piled in the sink. As I walked closer, I saw he was eating left over food lying on the plates. As I kicked him off, my roommate came around the corner and demanded I pay her money for the broken plate.
She's lucky I was too tired to fling another plate at her head!
Needless to say, she cleaned up the area and I did not pay for the plate. My throat was sore, however, after all the screaming that occurred before she finally "agreed" to clean up the mess.
Did I mention I had not ate in my home for over 2 weeks and not one plate, glass, cup, pot, pan or silverware was used by me?
The final straw occurred in December, 3 months after she moved in. My roommate from hell brought in a dog - an old dog who was incontinent. We had many fights within a matter of days over this dog. She informed me the manager of the complex had approved the dog living with us, so I finally gave in. I was very hesitant about the entire situation though. If she was incapable of cleaning up after herself, how would she care for a dog? Especially an old dog with arthritic bones and a tendency to be incontinent.
It was close to Christmas and my roommate headed north with her dog. Prior to leaving, I had reminded her to clean up. I also asked her to consider moving out as it simply wasn't working. I agreed to give her 2 months to find a new place, since it was difficult in the winter season to find rental units.
The day after she left, I came home at 10 AM after working over 24 hours. I was exhausted. There was a beautiful chinook and I decided to take advantage - I opened the balcony window to air out the apartment while I slept. It would be perfect.
I stood at the open window, smiling towards the warm sun, loving every moment of the break in the usual winter cold. As the wind blew in, I took a deep breath of fresh air...and gagged! I coughed and choked, tears pouring down my face. What was that awful smell?
I walked out onto my deck - a very large, enclosed indoor/outdoor carpeted deck - and stepped into dog poo!
I was furious! The entire deck, which had previously been filled with snow was now bare, having melted from the warm chinook winds. Everywhere I looked there were piles of dog poo! The smell was unbearable! Rather than take her incontinent dog downstairs to do his business, she had been sending him out on the balcony!
Exhausted as I was, I scrubbed and cleaned the deck for over 3 hours. Later, I spoke with my manager who gave me notice that either the dog left or I was to be evicted. Apparently my roommater from hell had never spoken to the manager.
When my roommate returned from Christmas holidays, I was at the door with an eviction notice - to her and her dog - effective immediately.
After much searching, I finally found a cheap house through my employment and moved. I returned to living on my own and never had another roommate - angel or devil - again in my home.
That is, unless you count my crazed cats but that is an entirely different story!
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