(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2006 03:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Landlords now rearranging furniture. My desk is being moved to somewhere it won't get all that nice natural light, and my bookshelves are being taken down and emptied so they can also be moved elsewhere. I got told about this while on my way out of the door this morning. By tonight, me and my mutilated geranium will be sitting in some dank corner muttering quietly to each other.
At what point can I stop being irrationally annoyed in a funny way, and move on to being genuinely pissed off?
At what point can I stop being irrationally annoyed in a funny way, and move on to being genuinely pissed off?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-21 04:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-21 05:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-22 05:12 pm (UTC)I had a really bad landlord experience a couple of years ago, with landlords who had even stronger views on rights to privacy (ie, none at all) than these - it was pretty hideous and ended with threats and police, and I wouldn't ever want to relive that. Still, it was at least simpler to deal with, in its way. This confusion of my landlords' rights as landlords and their rights as my housemate's parents is incredibly awkward; really they shouldn't be telling me what goes where at all, but when they do it in a friendly/patronising way with my housemate sitting across the table? argh.
Giving me no notice worked out okay for me this time, because I was out of the house most of the time they were here and couldn't be drafted in to help with moving/tidying/being lectured at about State Of This Place. (Which really isn't that bad!) I don't think they were too happy about that, either, but they couldn't exactly complain.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-02-22 05:00 pm (UTC)That's what really bugs me - this assumption that I won't object to anyone sorting through/moving all my personal stuff, because haha, look at the mess this place is in, silly child! You should be grateful! When I got back yesterday, my housemate's mother was making jokes about how I might find it difficult to find stuff for a few days "now everything's where it's supposed to be!", which, argh. a) it's my damn study and things are supposed to be where I say they're supposed to be, and b) I'm twenty-five, not eight. So, so annoying. At least they've gone now...