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Cause and effect

October 8, 2011

I feel the earth move under my feet.
I feel the sky tumbling down.

All good things aside, the last month could have gone a little better.

In late August, I got into a costly landlord-tenant dispute with someone who had failed to establish tenancy. She didn’t return the rental agreement, refused to look at the lease. I didn’t even have her last name, so you can imagine my surprise when the police and eventually a lawyer contacted me on her behalf.

She cried blue murder that she didn’t get keys, and demanded a $5000 payout for her aggravation. More surprised was I by the legal advice I received: pay her to go away and she will. She did not get the full amount that she was asking, but I eventually relented and did. What disturbs me most is the skill with which she finessed me. We never met in person.

On the same day her lawyer contacted me, my ex-husband had me served with papers, which had me due the following morning at a mandatory court session for people getting divorced. The hard part for me? Well, I’ve been divorced for nearly five years now. I really didn’t see that coming.

There’s a followup court date in a few weeks, which requires considerable and costly preparation. None of which belongs in a blog. (No doubt this post will self-destruct before the day is done.) My daughter turned eleven that same day. Instead of taking her to the bike shop, we stayed in so I could read through his brief.

The move was certainly the trigger in both legal cases. Or was it really? Job loss triggered the move, and I’m not entirely sure that part was my doing. My department was cut: not for my performance, and certainly not my decision or fault. I found something else quickly without missing a day of work. My means have changed, and while I am not sure they’ve changed enough to support my lifestyle, changing my lifestyle at the same time should really have helped.

Somewhere in between, I hit a speed bump with my current partner. Last night I heard him speak of our break-up in the past tense. I suspect this is bad news, but I’m not sure yet.

Thanksgiving is my favourite holiday, and not a day goes by for me without pausing to reflect on all that I do have to be thankful for. Sharing this sentiment with loved ones is important to me, but today my heart just isn’t in it.

Instead, I am spending my long weekend, home, not quite alone, sorting paper. This is not fun, and when I’m done I’ll put final preparations on the suburban rental property formerly known as my home, for the October 15th arrival of a proper tenant.

It is depressing, and I am sad.


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