I hate being at work when the weather’s lovely. Whilst I really love the sun it also makes me lazy at work. I’ve been sat here gorking at boys walking past in their vest tops and tight t-shirts. I’m basically just sat here doing bits and pieces of work but mostly daydreaming about being outside.
In case you weren’t aware I was off last week - interesting week I had off indeed. I mentioned before that I was having problems with my landlord. My flat needed loads of repairs e.g. the sash window that broke after the minor earthquake, the pedantic heating and the main front door doesn’t shut properly. My flat is in a lovely old building but as you know they need a lot of love. So, I decided last month that I was going to withhold the rent until he made the made the repairs. I got home on the 26th April to find the locks changed. I didn’t panic; one should never in these situations. I calmly left and spent the night at a friends.
I got up early, rang a friend who happens to be a solicitor and asked his advice. To my pleasure and joy, he told me the landlord would have to get a court order before changing the locks and that what he’d done was illegal making him liable for prosecution. He’d basically made me homeless illegally. He advised me to either go to court and try and get an injunction to get reinstated into my flat or change the locks because I had the right to. I chose the latter since the injunction would have taken some time it was also close to the bank holiday so nothing could be done. He gave me locksmith’s number who then came over and changed the locks. The locksmith did his job and then handed me the new set of keys. This was Friday afternoon, I had arranged to have time off from this day and had made plans so, I got changed and went out. There was more drama when I went out but I tell you about that later. It deserves an entry of its own. Believe me on this one!!
I got back on Saturday afternoon and jumped into the shower. An hour later, the landlord turned up demanding to be let into the flat. I refused of course and politely told him if he tried to break the door down I would call the police. I did this behind the safety of the double Chubb locked door of course. This man is about 6’5 and built like a rugby player, all the time he was shouting I was shitting myself and thought he was going to smash the door down then come and beat me up. For some unknown reason I refused to back down until he left. I remained in the flat till about 7pm when I ran out of cigarettes – I’d smoked about 15 in 3 hours. I was shitting myself about leaving the house in case he was sat in his van around the corner. I left the flat but I took the back route then managed to sneak back in. All this time I wasn’t worried about being thrown out by him, I think I was more afraid for my safety but I stupidly carried on. At around 10pm, I got bored and went into town to meet my friends.
I didn’t get back till Tuesday, by which time I had decided I would temporarily move back to my parents’ house. I rang the landlord on Thursday morning after doing all my packing and told him he could have his flat back. I’d also rang a man with a van before ringing the landlord. The landlord was at my flat within 15 mins screaming and shouting. I was prepared and armed with most of my friends so he chilled as soon as he saw them. He was basically stuffed. We moved out all the stuff peaceful. By this time the relationship between me and the landlord had broken down and I didn’t feel I wanted to live in the flat and area – much as I love Maida Vale. The best thing was that the stupid landlord left before I did, so, to punish him a little more I double locked the door again. He’s going to have to break it down to get into the flat. As stressful as the week was I feel I actually quite enjoyed it.
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