Seanette
10-14-2006, 03:18 AM
Monday's gonna suck. I get a lovely court appearance, thanks to an ex-friend (who's a paralegal/legal secretary. This *is* relevant later) whose chronic problems are not all physical.
LONG story here, but I'll try to give you the condensed version: met her online, we wound up friendly. She's got a *long* list of chronic problems (funny how said problems keep her from working or cleaning house, but don't keep her from power-shopping, traveling, etc.), including alleged blackouts and balance issues, along with supposed chronic fatigue syndrome. After a few years of occasional visits, e-mail, etc., DH and I had hit a crisis point involving there being NO jobs to be had in the area we were living in, so we wound up moving here and staying with her while we were getting our feet under us. Game plan was for us to help get the house shoveled out, which proved an impossibility when it was already overflowing with stuff, more flowed in all the time (since we had a car and she doesn't drive, she considered chauffeur service to shop part of the deal), and she kept undoing anything that was done (she'd even manage to reclutter walkways as fast as I'd clear them, and I would have thought someone with her alleged balance problems and blackouts would consider having safe footing on the floor instead of skating on paper, magazines, etc., over hard wood a *good* thing). We moved into our present apartment in Sept. 2004.
Fast-forward to early Sept. 2005: it's between Katrina and Labor Day, I clearly remember. I get a text message at work from her cell phone. "PLEASE CALL", all caps (not typical). Take break (office job, very flexible supe, slow day anyway), try to comply, cannot reach her on either her landline or her cell. I'm about 15 miles away and do not have the car. Call DH, consult with him. He cannot check on her, since he's got to get to work himself and does not think he has a key anyway (he did, as did I, but he'd honestly forgotten that he did). After some discussion covering such points as the very obstructed pathways, her many medical problems, etc., we decide that yes, there's cause for concern. I call the local police (can't remember whether I used 911 or the non-emergency number, in all honesty) and ask them to have someone check on her, giving the medical picture and the info about the unusual text message.
A bit later, I get a call from then-friend herself, going nuclear on me because the health department was called in by the police after they broke in and saw the place (turned out she was having lunch with her boyfriend). Allegedly, she'd left voicemail (my cell carrier informed me when I asked about this that it's not possible for an attempted voicemail to transmute into a text message), was bitching about how I'd even known about the call while at work (so why'd she call then, anyway? She knew my schedule), and assured me that not only was I spending the holiday weekend cleaning her house but that I was paying all financial costs. My reaction was along the lines of "oh HELL no! You're ranting and raving and threatening me, you're bigger than I am, I've seen you flinging some pretty heavy stuff, especially for an "invalid", when you didn't like the fact that something had to be moved to clean, I'm emotional hamburger lately anyway, and you think I'm going to voluntarily get anywhere near you until you're rational again?" (OK, not those words, but basic concept.) Simply put, I honestly believed that I had cause to fear for my physical safety in her presence at that time. I *knew* that if I subjected myself to her behavior, I'd wind up in need of inpatient psychiatric care. I *could not* deal with the berserker rage she was unloading.
About two weeks ago, stranger arrives at door, confirms who I am, hands me envelope. I'm being taken to small claims court because Ms. "think nothing of dropping hundreds at a shot on craft supplies, books, etc., while living on disability insurance" got hit for tax liens for costs relating to the health department matter (apparently, she didn't bother to pay the city's fees, and claims she could not find anyone to "satisfactorily" clean the place), and believes that because I couldn't get the place shoveled out in the two months I was there while coping with her active sabotage of cleaning efforts (she even screamed at me for throwing out some very stale crackers with a charming hint of mold in the taste while retrieving same from a garbage can that ISTR even had used cat litter in it at the time) plus relocation, marital stress, serious financial stress, her verbal abuse (for over two months, my name was "slave" as far as she was concerned), etc., that costs relating to the condition of the place a year after I moved out are my responsibility.
I did consult a law-student friend. He declined to make any definite statement on the quite reasonable grounds that he is not a practicing attorney, but did express the personal opinion there's no case here. I hope the judge agrees. Either way, DH and I are both missing half a day of work, and the plaintiff has a history of conveniently being "too ill" for scheduled legal proceedings. I know from her own statement (relating to another piece of litigation of hers) that she'll do this on purpose out of sheer malice for the other party, so it won't surprise me if she does this to me a few times.
I think one of tomorrow's errands is going to be a trip to Cold Stone for some ice cream (I like the cheesecake base with fudge syrup and cherry pie filling), and I'd better make sure I have lots of tyrosine.
LONG story here, but I'll try to give you the condensed version: met her online, we wound up friendly. She's got a *long* list of chronic problems (funny how said problems keep her from working or cleaning house, but don't keep her from power-shopping, traveling, etc.), including alleged blackouts and balance issues, along with supposed chronic fatigue syndrome. After a few years of occasional visits, e-mail, etc., DH and I had hit a crisis point involving there being NO jobs to be had in the area we were living in, so we wound up moving here and staying with her while we were getting our feet under us. Game plan was for us to help get the house shoveled out, which proved an impossibility when it was already overflowing with stuff, more flowed in all the time (since we had a car and she doesn't drive, she considered chauffeur service to shop part of the deal), and she kept undoing anything that was done (she'd even manage to reclutter walkways as fast as I'd clear them, and I would have thought someone with her alleged balance problems and blackouts would consider having safe footing on the floor instead of skating on paper, magazines, etc., over hard wood a *good* thing). We moved into our present apartment in Sept. 2004.
Fast-forward to early Sept. 2005: it's between Katrina and Labor Day, I clearly remember. I get a text message at work from her cell phone. "PLEASE CALL", all caps (not typical). Take break (office job, very flexible supe, slow day anyway), try to comply, cannot reach her on either her landline or her cell. I'm about 15 miles away and do not have the car. Call DH, consult with him. He cannot check on her, since he's got to get to work himself and does not think he has a key anyway (he did, as did I, but he'd honestly forgotten that he did). After some discussion covering such points as the very obstructed pathways, her many medical problems, etc., we decide that yes, there's cause for concern. I call the local police (can't remember whether I used 911 or the non-emergency number, in all honesty) and ask them to have someone check on her, giving the medical picture and the info about the unusual text message.
A bit later, I get a call from then-friend herself, going nuclear on me because the health department was called in by the police after they broke in and saw the place (turned out she was having lunch with her boyfriend). Allegedly, she'd left voicemail (my cell carrier informed me when I asked about this that it's not possible for an attempted voicemail to transmute into a text message), was bitching about how I'd even known about the call while at work (so why'd she call then, anyway? She knew my schedule), and assured me that not only was I spending the holiday weekend cleaning her house but that I was paying all financial costs. My reaction was along the lines of "oh HELL no! You're ranting and raving and threatening me, you're bigger than I am, I've seen you flinging some pretty heavy stuff, especially for an "invalid", when you didn't like the fact that something had to be moved to clean, I'm emotional hamburger lately anyway, and you think I'm going to voluntarily get anywhere near you until you're rational again?" (OK, not those words, but basic concept.) Simply put, I honestly believed that I had cause to fear for my physical safety in her presence at that time. I *knew* that if I subjected myself to her behavior, I'd wind up in need of inpatient psychiatric care. I *could not* deal with the berserker rage she was unloading.
About two weeks ago, stranger arrives at door, confirms who I am, hands me envelope. I'm being taken to small claims court because Ms. "think nothing of dropping hundreds at a shot on craft supplies, books, etc., while living on disability insurance" got hit for tax liens for costs relating to the health department matter (apparently, she didn't bother to pay the city's fees, and claims she could not find anyone to "satisfactorily" clean the place), and believes that because I couldn't get the place shoveled out in the two months I was there while coping with her active sabotage of cleaning efforts (she even screamed at me for throwing out some very stale crackers with a charming hint of mold in the taste while retrieving same from a garbage can that ISTR even had used cat litter in it at the time) plus relocation, marital stress, serious financial stress, her verbal abuse (for over two months, my name was "slave" as far as she was concerned), etc., that costs relating to the condition of the place a year after I moved out are my responsibility.
I did consult a law-student friend. He declined to make any definite statement on the quite reasonable grounds that he is not a practicing attorney, but did express the personal opinion there's no case here. I hope the judge agrees. Either way, DH and I are both missing half a day of work, and the plaintiff has a history of conveniently being "too ill" for scheduled legal proceedings. I know from her own statement (relating to another piece of litigation of hers) that she'll do this on purpose out of sheer malice for the other party, so it won't surprise me if she does this to me a few times.
I think one of tomorrow's errands is going to be a trip to Cold Stone for some ice cream (I like the cheesecake base with fudge syrup and cherry pie filling), and I'd better make sure I have lots of tyrosine.