The Little Old Lady Under the Stairs

I feel like some kind of spook today, something creepy and possibly scary kept in a secret room, away from the living.

That’s what happens when you live in a hole in the ground with a family of elephants, gorillas, etc over your head all day and all night and all weekend. I’m trying hard to like it here. This weekend they are putting in the new floor that was supposed to be done last weekend when I went away so I could escape the noise. They saved it for me, how kind.

They also want, no expect, me to give them a key to my apartment. The power box thing is down here and if they need to shut off a breaker or whatever they would need to get in here. How often does something like that happen? Hmmm? Not bloody often. I said no. Of course, that wasn’t the right answer. You’re not actually allowed to say no, have you ever noticed that? I’m sticking to my keys though. I’m not giving away something I waited for this long, a place of my own. Even though I don’t feel like this is a place of my own. You can’t feel that way when the elephants decide to rampage above you day and night. I don’t know what they were stomping around for at 2:30 last night. I wanted to go up there and scream at them. I didn’t.

I want to scream at them about so many things. They have finished blocking up my only window now. I have one in the bedroom but I don’t count that as I only see it at night. In the day I have one window, small and now totally blocked by garbage so almost no light comes in. If I was a bitch I’d probably go out and buy duct tape and carboard sheets and use a ladder to seal off all their windows. I’d like to do that. It makes me feel happy just thinking about their surprise.

I think I am only staying here because they offered to buy the house and as long as I’m here they can’t. Graham won’t sell if he thinks I’m trying to do here. Though, it hangs over my head all the time that it’s up to him. I don’t really have any options. He changes his mind frequently. Saying one thing on Tuesday and something else on Wednesday.

If you have never lived in a basement before you don’t know what it’s like. I always thought the worst thing would be dampness. It’s not. I can hear their conversation. I can hear their every step, right over my head. It’s dark and I have spiders and wood louse bugs, not a huge lot of them just enough to remind me I’m in the lower realms. I have lights on all the time cause it would be almost fully dark without them. Unless I look at a clock I have no idea what time of day it is, could be morning, afternoon or evening for all I know, they all look the same.

Of course, I’m using this space to rant. Don’t think I’m looking for sympathy or violins. I need to tell someone and believe someone is listening, what else are personal blogs for?

What would your most vindictive, bitchy torture be for the people upstairs? Give me your most evil, devious and wicked ideas?

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