Wednesday, March 19, 2008
I'm going to write about a friend here. I said I wasn't going to do that any more, but this thing has me reeling. I don't understand her logic. I don't understand why she is reacting the way she is, and I don't care if this gets back to her somehow, because maybe then she'll understand why I had to pull away from her a few months ago, and am resisting getting involved with her again.
Background facts: She's on disability, and works part time jobs, which means money is always an issue. About a year ago she almost lost her house because she was without housemate and couldn't make the mortgage payments. She rents the second bedroom, sharing the kitchen and bathroom, and has had some miserable tenants over the past few years.
Last spring, George, a newly-divorced construction worker, moved in, saving her from foreclosure, and George has proven to be an asset. He volunteers handyman work on the house, is quiet and sober, is a gourmet cook, often treating her to dinners, and always pays the rent on time. He's a nice and accommodating guy, and she needs the rent money. He even arranges to be out of the house when her boyfriend visits, without complaint. Perfection, right?
Over the past few weeks, an odor has appeared and grown, emanating from his bedroom, and spreading to her bedroom. She says he doesn't smell it, and isn't bothered by it, but it bothers her so much she has been sleeping on the couch downstairs. She said it smells "sort of like old gym socks". She accused him of being unclean, and freaked when she discovered that his comforter hadn't been laundered since he'd moved in. She took it to a commercial washer and washed it herself, but the odor didn't go away. In fact, it got worse.
She has been after George to figure it out and fix it. I know her well enough to feel sorry for George. She says that he is now avoiding her, and refuses to discuss the problem further. They have stopped speaking. She's furious about having to sleep on the couch because she can't stand the odor upstairs.
I suggested that it may not be George. It's an old house, and she's had some serious roof gutter problems. Perhaps melting ice had gotten into the walls and it was mold. From her description of the odor, it sounded to me like mold.
So, I got a call from her last night. She went into George's room after our last discussion, lifted the rug in one corner, and found mold, on the floor and on the underside of the carpet. She thinks George had left a pile of wet towels there. (I am not convinced it was George's fault - it could still be coming from the wall, but I didn't say anything.) She found some stuff in the hardware store to fix mold problems. She thinks she can get rid of the mold and the odor.
However, here's the part that has my head spinning. She is going to kick George out, give him his two month's notice, on Easter Sunday.
I asked why, and she said because she can't continue sleeping on the couch any longer. I asked why not just clean George's room, and let him stay. "You're between jobs, you need the rent, he's been a great housemate, it's not like he did anything on purpose, if it was towels, he'll never do that again, and if it turns out to be a problem in the wall and you can't get rid of the odor, you'll have great difficulty renting the room to anyone else, and the odor doesn't bother him, so why throw him out?"
Her answer, "Because I can't sleep on the couch any longer."
????
There's some kind of logical disconnect there.
I pointed out that to get her back into her bedroom, she'll have to treat his room. She says she can't do that while he's living there.
"Why not?"
"Because everything he owns is in that room. He's got so much stuff."
"Why can't you just move his stuff out into the hall or whatever?"
"There's too much. He has to be out."
"But if you wait until he's out, and he'll be there for two more months, you'll be on the couch for two more months, at least. And then there's no assurance that you'll be able to re-rent the room, depending on whether the treatment works. If you move his stuff out temporarily and treat the room, you'll be better off."
Her response? "He has to get out. I can't sleep on the couch any longer."
I do not understand. I just don't get it.
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Maybe her paranoia is rubbing off on me. I told her last December that I didn't want to "be pals" with her any more because I was tired of her going off on me and mistreating me, and taking advantage of me. I told her I was not going to put myself in her line of fire any more. And so far, I've stuck with that. We are pleasant when we meet, and that's it.
Now, she KNOWS if she kicks George out, she's going to have big financial problems.
She also knows I have money.
Last Sunday, at Green Eggs and Ham, she mentioned to me that as she's job hunting with little success, she's currently living on her tiny savings. She's three years younger than I, and has no family. Her house is her retirement plan.
I have a feeling that in a month or two, I'm going to have to be very strong. Yes, I do donate to charities, and I can be very generous with my friends, but if she insists on digging this hole on purpose, I have to let her fall in it, even if she loses her house. It's her fate, and her lesson to learn.
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5 comments:
Jeez, and here I was, waiting to learn that he had a large, locked trunk in his bedroom, whence came the odors.
You're right! Los Angeles, CA
;)
thats just a little on the crazy side on her part-- although, i must say i have a couple of friends who would do the exact same thing. kinda crazy
I was thinking dead body also. When we lived in Jacksonville in the 90's, a young girl named Maddie Clifton went missing. They found her about 2 weeks later under her 14 y/o neighbors waterbed when the mother noticed smell and liquids oozing out from under the bed.
Figured I ought to fill in the final installment. It WAS mold in the walls, caused by her defective gutters and eaves. She forced George out anyway, she has not rented the room since then, and she did manage to find a job - which, as usual, didn't last long because she can't get along with coworkers.
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