As usual I don’t know where I’m going to be
The estate agents are really turning the screw about my disability equipment and the animals so the short version is that we’re getting out of here asap. They’ve made the mistake of putting several blatantly illegal things in writing, as well as contradicting themselves in every which way possible (including the gem “Yes, our agent said you could have your pets, but you still should not have assumed that you could”).
Found out some more things about previous tenants, including one having multiple dogs that they let bark in the garden all day while they were out ?.
So despite having a 3-year tenancy and the law generally on our side, we hate everyone involved in this house and are trying to find somewhere that will take us. They basically have to not mind that there’s a cripple and some animals and just look to the fact that we always pay rent on time and look after the house. Those last two points are just not good enough for our current landlords, they specifically don’t want disability stuff in the house and they hate our animals even though the agency has been letting this place as a pet-friendly rental for years. Which they’re now denying of course, but there’s too much evidence to the contrary. Including THE FUCKING CAT FLAP THEY PUT IN FOR A TENANT.
We’re going to head towards Soton again. Being here doesn’t work for us anymore and it’s full of bad memories. I think Will misses the way things used to be and it would be nice to put things on amicable terms with people before closing this chapter of our lives, but he’d never ask for it.
So we’ll go and have another fucking housewarming somewhere and then I’ve got to pull off something for Will being 30 entire years old.
Will’s workplace have decided that, actually, they don’t want to do the scheme where they pay for their employees’ house deposits, for us. They bought a house for the dickhead in the office who everyone hates and who they have weekly discussions about firing, but they won’t help Will despite generally acting like the sun shines out of his ass. I don’t think I’d be so annoyed about it if it wasn’t literally the company’s own idea to pay for our house deposit. The guy in charge was literally like “Why don’t you own your home Will?!”
And then as soon as we’re like, OK, we could do with just over 13k to get this place that would fit us, they suddenly don’t want to do it.
It would have been nice to get out of the nightmare life of renting. Our animals would have been happy in their old age, never would have had the rug pulled out from under their feet again, and we could have painted some walls and just have been happy. I don’t want anything that ostentatious from life. I want to own the house and paint the walls and have animals. The end. I will die happy.
As a religious and somewhat superstitious person I’m worried about Freya passing away while we still rent because I’m scared that we’d leave her spirit behind when we moved out. It probably sounds really stupid but it’s genuinely something that I’d lie awake thinking about for the rest of my life. Freya is so afraid of being abandoned again, and the idea of her spectre waiting alone in an empty house for us forever honestly fucking kills me.
When our animals do pass away we probably won’t be able to get more. It’s just too unstable when you’re stuck renting. I probably won’t be able to get another working dog, it’s just too hard to fight for it, and I’ll probably never get to have my own cat. We probably won’t be able to have a baby together either. I’m already 30 and would almost definitely need to do IVF because of various issues, there’s just not enough time left to try and scrape savings together, buy a house, and have a baby before my body clock completely disintegrates. And we won’t get a mortgage after 40 because providers won’t want to risk us paying it off with our pension. Not that I even have a pension! Basically Corporate Linx really fucked up the prospects for the rest of our life with this one. There’s nothing we can do about it aside from stop working there asap and let them start putting out their own fires.
Now we just have to find the next place to shelter our pets until they either retract permission or put the rent up sky-high. Same old same old.
Of course I once again realise it would have been quite nice if I died back in January ’19 instead of still sitting here costing money and only being unhappy anyway. Seems to be that hanging yourself is the most effective way to go now, not that I could ever get up high enough to do it and I don’t exactly have a length of rope lying about either. So just as always, suicidal and not able to do anything about it. ?
Say the word and let me go.