Bouncing Off The Walls


Day by day It’s more impossible to cope I feel like I’m the one doing dope

( My mind’s playin’ tricks on me By (I can’t remember)

So I called my friend and asked what the issue was and she said she did not want to talk about it yet. But she is still acting funny and we never speak. I’m afraid to do anything or touch anything or talk to anyone because I don’t know what the problem is.

In a related development and because of the situation above, I decided something drastic had to be done about the house situation. I mean, it got so that i could not eat until late in the night say about 9 or 10 because did not want to run into her in the kitchen and she gets angry that I am using her utensils or something ( I buy my foodstuff) and that was so unhealthy for the baby, so much so that its movement reduced seriously. anyway, so I came upon this idea to ask my doctor to ask his patients to help one patient of his with a bq or something if they had it. I mean, I figured that if I was going to get a place it would have to be on a charity basis so I had to beg. My doctor misunderstood and gave me the name of an agent. Well, I went along with that idea thinking, what do I have to lose?

On the first day he took me to see a place he described as a mini flat. When I went with a taxi to pick him up he was with another agent – aren’t they always- they both got into the car and we drove to the place. at the house they knocked and knocked on the gate for what seemed like ages and no one answered. Then they finally called the house owner who in turn called his lawyer to come to our rescue. So we waited in the taxi, and a noisy, rickety, jalopy pulled up. Out came a thin, weasely man, wearing an ankara caftan, with glasses in his hand. He walked up to the two agents who by now were again at the gate and answered their greeting like he would have preferred not to if not for circumstances. Then he walked up to the house and pressed the bell. (Duh) Finally someone came and began the noises that indicated they were trying to open the gate. The problem was that apart from being locked from inside it was also padlocked from outside!
At this time, I came out of the car and walked up to them. The lawyer made an elaborate turn to pretend like he did not see me so I greeted him. He acknowledged my greeting with all the grace of a monarch and then it seemed the idea struck him. He turned to the two men and asked’ who wants the house’. My agent and I answered at the same time that it was me (heeellooooo). He ignored me and asked my agent again’ is it her or her husband?’. (At that point in time I was ready to leave because any house that has even a hint of prejudice is not worthy of my presence. I don’t want any stress in a place I want to lay my head. ) At this point in time the agent had indicated to the lawyer that I was pregnant so there had to be a husband (LOL) , and the lawyer had launched into this story of how the landlord was a very strict medical doctor who did not want a woman in his house. That he practically had to send the lady who was there previously away, and she was working with Skye bank., blah, blah, blah. By then I was already impatient to leave but my agent kept saying I should calm down and see the place, that the lawyer could speak to the man if I liked it.

Anyway, the person opening the gate had finally figured that there was a lock outside and passed the key. We finally were let into the grounds. A semi-impressive duplex took most of the view in the compound as you entered. To the right beside the house was a parked jeep. The place looked like it had just undergone construction and the workers had cleaned up hurriedly and left. There was bits of construction debris on the floor, and dust everywhere. The miniflat in question seemed to also be beside the main house, but as we walked in, right beside the jeep, we were led to a gate, which led to the mini flat.

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