The World According To Me

The Friday before last, I called my real estate agent about a couple of issues with my house. The heater isn't working at all, and it's getting cold of an evening now. Also, the back door had shifted, as with pretty much every other door in the house, as the house is old and moves with changes in temperature. Door wedges are my friend. The back door wasn't closing properly and I couldn't lock it.

I get along well with the staff at the estate agents, I am always friendly and pleasant, as I see no point in being any other way for no reason. The agent is actually the owner of my house, so they like me a bit better than most tenants, I thought. The receptionist asked me to put my request in an e-mail, which I did straight away. I put my mobile number in the e-mail, even though it is already on their file, for their convenience to contact me to tell me when the fixing man would come to my house.

On Monday I got a reply saying that the agent would 'look into it'. I replied back thanking her.

Monday - no call, no door fixing.

Tuesday - no call, no door fixing.

Wednesday - no call, no door fixing.

Thursday - no call, but door fixing. I got home and the door now closes, but still doesn't lock. Heater not fixed.

Also on Thursday there were storms predicted so I had gone home at lunchtime and secured the girls in the sunroom, particularly so that Lucy wouldn't run away (as she tends to do when there are loud noises). The sunroom runs for most of the width of the house, along the back. It has a concrete floor, and louvre windows, the toilet and laundry run off it, it leads to the kitchen and to outside.

I got a call on Friday, at lunchtime, not from the agent but from his rent manager. I am being kicked out of my house, for having the pets in the sunroom. I tried to explain that it was because there was storms forecast and that they were only in the sunroom, which isn't carpeted, but she was having none of it. Apparently it was the agent/owner who came to my house, to fix the door himself. And he is pissed off.

Now, I don't deny that having the girls inside the house isn't the done thing. However, they weren't in a carpeted area, there were storms brewing. I was just looking after my pets.

I pay my rent on time every fortnight and have not once been late. My house is very clean, bordering on anally so in recent times due to my lack of social life. I don't have a crack lab set up in the kitchen. I have kept the extensive lawns looking beautiful through careful watering in accordance with the restrictions, and through setting up a grey water pipe system. I have the greenest lawns in my street. I don't play loud music in the early hours of the morning, or at all. I have had one wild party in the 18 months I have lived there, and that was during the day. I never complained that the 'third bedroom' has no power points and thus can't actually be used as a bedroom. I have never complained that there is a maximum of one power point in every other room, so my life is connected by a series of extension leads and power boards, which I purchased. I never complained about there being barely any lightglobes in the light fittings when we moved in. I never complained about the undocumented rent rise. I did complain about there being no air-conditioner when one was advertised with the property, but didn't make a fuss when they told me it was a 'mistake'. I didn't complain when the walls 'shift' again and plaster rains down in my kitchen.

On Friday I was pretty much in shock. I received the call at lunchtime, went back to work and tried to process it all in my head, very quietly. I didn't quite trust myself to speak. When I got home I called my mum and bawled down the phone, "Mum, I've just tried to do the right thing, I don't understand". My mum is angry. She told me to get a lawyer mate on the case, that I had made a small transgression, but that he had broken the rules as well.

Now I'm fucking angry. The agent didn't tell me when he was coming to the house. If he'd told me he was coming I would have somehow boarded up the missing windows in the garage and put the girls in there, to keep them safe. I have been a fucking excellent tenant, and this arsehole is kicking me out! I don't have a rainy day fund for when I unexpectedly have to move house. I don't have a rainy day fund at all. I don't have parents or relatives whom I can turn to for help in a situation like this. I live in a country town and now if I try and find a new house to live in I'm going to get a shitty reference and most likely be turned down.

I'm pissed off that I'm the only one getting punished in this. I'm pissed off that I'm a young woman living by myself and someone feels that it is their right to enter my home without my informed consent. And I'm panicking about what I am going to do, where I am going to live, how many organs I'm going to have to sell to raise the cash for a new bond and new rent and removalists and utility connections and the myriad of other costs that arise when one moves. I am pissed off because I believe that I have for the most part done the right thing, and my reputation is going to be fucked up, a black mark on my record.

I don't know what to do.

Everything is cocked.