It's been a tough week. Work was weird. I was hoping for a while that they'd take me on full time, but it doesn't look like there'll be any space for me. And to make things more fun, relations with my ex have completely broken down, dashing hopes that we'd be able to get through the end of the lease agreement civilly and with kindness. Nope. Last week, I turned a key into the rental agency because they wanted a copy. Fine. But then for some reason, he went to pick it up and then lent it to a friend who is, apparently, staying with him. And then when I asked him for it back, he refused!
This friend was supposed to be leaving on Friday, and he was happy to meet me to give me back my keys then. So, I met him yesterday, got my key and all was well. Until this morning, when I was woken up by a text telling me to get in touch if I was awake. I asked what he wanted. The friend who was supposed to be leaving on Friday was still in the flat, and hadn't let him in when he called. As a result, he was furious and wanted my key back. I said no, but out of the kindness of my heart, I'd go let him in. After a series of increasingly angry texts in which he insisted that the key should be with him (he has his own key!) and that I'm screwing him over, he told me not to bother coming.
Fine by me, I guess.
I don't know if I wanted to be friends, but I for sure wanted to be friendly, especially while getting all the flat stuff sorted. Now I'm kind of afraid that all my stuff is flying out the window as we speak. Assuming he isn't still sitting on the stoop, that is.
As my former home-life crumbles around me...
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