Picture it...(sorry, Sophia)...Florida 2013...you're minding your own business in your nice apartment. You have a much beloved patio garden that you tend. That's such a zen thing to do, calms me down when things get tough.
Anyhow, suddenly, there are strangers roaming the property looking at the buildings and taking notes. What's going on? You wonder, but mind your business and go watch a movie.
Then one day, there's a letter on your door. The property has been sold to the same LLC that bought the property next door. Now you get mildly alarmed. The property next door has been undergoing a serious make-over. You drive by their signs daily proclaiming "granite countertops!" "New Appliances!" "Laminate Flooring!" And you feel the four horsemen galloping inexorably your way...
Sure enough, soon you're getting emails from the new management company. They're going to repair the buildings, put up, you guessed it - granite countertops, new appliances, laminate flooring yadayadayada...
So you wonder, how in the heck am I going to live through a construction zone? Will they actually rip out the tile and the carpeting with me in the apt? And how will my Tzus react? I can see them needing canine shrinks to talk them through their stress...they're far too old to chew the carpet or anything else.
Then the hammer falls. You are notified that they won't renew your lease when it's time in a couple of months. You won't be able to remain in your current unit...
The fact that the workmen are already here replacing rotted wood in the trim and filling up our cul-de-sac with a giant dumpster makes it very real. The hammer is falling, literally and metaphorically.
Now my mind goes into crisis mode...after years of working for the government, putting out everything from smoking embers to enormous blazes of out of control situations, it just goes into that mode automatically. It's purely a survival instinct.
Sideline - I could have told the Feds there would be major difficulties in rolling out the Affordable Care Act - I've never seen a government program yet that rolled out on time and without blips. One program in the state where I worked took five years to fix before it worked correctly. Of course I'm talking about programs that involve major work with computers...makes you think, doesn't it?
Back to the crisis - I have an appointment with the manager tomorrow morning to discuss my options, all of which involve my least favorite thing in the world, packing up my pack-rat existence and moving and having to unpack at the new place. As a friend suggested, I'd rather have a root canal - MUCH RATHER.
There are benefits to all of this. The apartment complex next door is an option, and it's very nice now. Much of my garden won't have a home there, but I'm working on finding good homes for some of the plants.
If I move over there, I doubt I'll be doing battle with Godzilla's spider relatives - I had one hide in my closet for three days. Every so often I opened the door suddenly, broom in hand, but the bugger would inevitably be on to that ploy and hide. Finally one night, about 2am the spider came out of the closet. (Okay, stop the laughing!) I left the lights on so I could monitor the culprit. I chased him down telling him if he had let me catch him previously, I'd have caught him in a jar and put him outside. His demise was his own fault. Defiant to the end, he met his death as the broom descended, on his eight legs, steadily watching it come to get him...When it was over, I scooped him up in the jar and consigned him to a watery grave. Since then I have been paranoid when I open my bedroom closet, wary of arachnids...The one I killed was almost the size of my fist with its legs included...and they say everything is bigger in Texas!
And then there was the snake that slithered in one evening when I opened the front door...maybe the new place won't be so bad, after all. Of course they've got several retention ponds on the property which sometimes invite gators to come and stay awhile...
I may not be putting up as many posts for the next couple of months. Just imagine me with giant garbage bags, filling them with kitchen stuff (I don't need a lot of pots and pans because I rarely cook anymore.) Then there will be bags of paper to shred...more things for Goodwill...before I finally get to packing.
Everybody take care...I've got a review to post later this week on a great book entitled Windwalker by the terrific author, Dinah McCall...the cover is to die for, girls!
Now, where did I put the number to 1-800-Got Junk?