To think, when the building was sold, I was hoping that would be the end of the ridiculous landlord dramas we've been having for years now. I started realizing that was not going to be the case when I started making quiet notes to myself along the lines of "Ok, remember that spot. If it's still there when we get back from Alberta... I'll do something... maybe". And then on the return from Alberta noting the same spot and making a mental note to see if it was still there when we returned from Nova Scotia.

The spot finally went away last Saturday morning. In my fairly experienced opinion in both the making of considerable messes and cleaning them up, this building hasn't been cleaned since our new landlords took over in July. And honestly, the "cleaning" the building received this past weekend is pretty fucking pathetic. There's still crap all over the carpets.

Anyways, the drama was all in email. Mike covered it better, so I'll direct your attention to his journal entry about it. Boiling it down to the basics, Mike (the diplomat of our relationship) emailed our new Property Manager about the mess in the building, got brushed off, the Linda (the hard hitter) stepped in and asked straight out when we could expect the building to be cleaned as the level of filth was unacceptable.

In return I got this gem of an email:

Not true. I am one week behind and already have made arrangements to catch up tomorrow. If you were at all concerned about the cleanliness of your home you would not let your cat run unleashed throughout the building or place its food in the hallway. I have had to clean up cat feces in the halls. These acts that you are committing are contributing to the filth and at times stench in the halls. Today when I met some of the new tenants moving in several of them expressed concern about this as they have allergies as I do myself. The building will be thoroughly cleaned tomorrow and from this point on I expect your cat(s) to be contained to your apartment at all times. I will do my part but you have to do yours as well. Please be considerate and respectful of your neighbors and fellow tenants.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. Please note that I received this at 4am Saturday morning, because I was awake with my stupid-ass-pain-filled back. I sat there for a good 40 minutes just gap jawed in disbelief and shaking with fury. I finally gave up and asked Mike to get up and help me calm down. (I'm doing better with dealing with stress and my anger, but sometimes I just end up broadsided with it and have no idea how or where to direct it.)

Anyways, we sent a blunt yet polite email in response, copy at Mike's journal and I've spent the rest of the weekend just simmering over this entire bullshit. If I'm awake, I'm thinking about it. Thinking about what I can do about this. Thinking about how unjustified those accusations were. Thinking about how much I hate conflict. Thinking about where my lines are and when I'll stop bending and fight. When I wasn't thinking I was playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas obsessively. Mostly to stop the simmering processes a little.

I woke up on Sunday morning with a very clear fact in my head. As tenants, we are customers of the company that employs this charmer. From when they took control of our building to the point our lease comes up for renewal we will spend $9240 with their company in exchange for space rental and utilities. This is a business relationship, and Mr. Flynn has been utterly unprofessional both in his interactions with me and in his care of our building to this point.

So, the next mental step is "what do I do when faced with unprofessional behaviour?" and the answer is as it always has been, I can either ignore it or I can do something about it. Since his title is "Property Manager", that means he's someone's employee and I bet you they'd be mighty interested in how their employee is treating their customers. So... let's find that mailing address that he failed to provide us with in his introductory letter and have a conversation with the owner of our building.

That's the plan for today. I'm going information hunting. Once we have that, I'm going to start writing. See where these steps take me.

What's funny in all this is as an abuse survivor I hate conflict. It stresses me the fuck out. Makes me terrified as an automatic reaction and triggers my fight or flight mechanism. I fled on Saturday morning. Went out of breakfast, walked the campus of Laurier with Mike, visited my Mom for a little bit. Then I woke up on Sunday morning ready to fight. I warned him. His response was "blah, blah, blah..." more fool he.

And that's 30.