Where the Psychic Vents The First Time

Being a psychic doesn’t always help. Normally I don’t rant…but, I just have to tonight.

I’ve got a war going on with a neighbor and with the kid who lives downstairs. I keep hoping they will both move away.

The neighbor lives with her parents and she’s close to 30 years old. I don’t think she’s going to be moving any time soon. She’s a leech. The problem is that she does not like animals and complains of our cats peeing under her window. She says the smell keeps her awake at night. She also complains of the neighbor on her other side who is disabled and has a dog. This 30 something asshole complains that the dog also urinates under her window. She has already called the city who came out and decided that she was wrong in her thinking and that things didn’t smell bad like she said.

She refuses to speak to me as I refuse to speak to her and so the neighbor between us gets stuck as the go-between. He has to pass on her nasty little messages to me. That pisses me off too. What she refuses to acknowledge is that cats are independent creatures and as such pretty much refuse to stay inside all the time. We are also not the only people who have cats in the neighborhood. But, she’s focusing her attention on our cats. I’ve been having a war with our own cats trying to make them stay inside when they do not want to stay inside. I also have a kitty litter box outside on the patio and have had this litter box out there for a number of years. It gets used and we empty it at least twice a day. No reason why the cats don’t use it. They do.

What I need to do is just sit back and ignore her. I cannot change the fact that she is an asshole and will likely remain an asshole well into her 70’s. She’s also likely to never move from that location. So, me wishing that she’d just leave isn’t going to help matters either.

I just have to learn how to let her be her asshole self. Then I have to learn how not to let her bother me. But, for now I feel like venting.

Then, the other problem is the kid downstairs who is my landlord and landlady’s son. I think he’ll be turning 21 in January, but he, too, is a leech and a user. And, I screamed at him bloody murder and his friends last March. I have not spoken nor made eye contact with him since then. They threatened to beat me up. I threatened to tell his parents and call the cops while he and his buds had a major home alone party that lasted 3 weeks while his folks were gone to China. I never did tell his parents nor did I call the cops. But, I think he’s turned into a major juvenile delinquent. He and his friends rev their engines and work on their cars down in the driveway. Then they crank up the music until my heart pounds and I think I’m going to have a stroke. I wonder if there’s a law against people working on their cars at home and not in an authorized repair shop. I know there’s a law against dumping oil. Wait…he dumped some behind the fence. I could turn his butt in for that.

This is tearing me up inside. I just want to leave, but we cannot leave. We’ve got a honey of a deal with the rent here and there’s nowhere we can move to in this city where we’d be able to pay the same and have our 4 cats and 2 parakeets.

I am at my wits end here.

If like Byron Katie says I can’t fight reality and must accept this shit as it is and believe that it’s the best thing that could be happening right now…I could chew nails. Anyway, I’m still on chapter one and am really super inspired to keep reading. Because this is horrible.