Sorry this isn’t about temperatures but about tempers, specifically my temper. I used to have a really hot temper and man that was exhausting. Fortunately time and age have helped me cool my jets a bit. While I’d love to say I’ve become quite saintly as I’ve gotten older, that’s just not the case. I think I’ve mostly run out of energy to get really steamed.
But there’s one exception and that’s the upstairs neighbors I call the Ferals. I’ve mentioned before the trouble he apparently has in parking straight in his spot (seriously there is NO shame in a 20 point turn in Boston, in fact that’s normal), and how he must wear steel clad boots because he’s so very loud and stompy when he walks around, and how he yells at his wife and kids all the time. Oh and let’s not forget the microwave that’s been languishing in our shared upstairs foyer for well over a year.
The Friday before Memorial Day, I parked my car and it was in fine shape. I know this because I regularly walk around my car. Yes, I’m weird, I walk around and check out my car and no, it’s not because the car is new. I just do that to make sure everything is OK. I did it with my CR-V too. So my car was A-OK Friday evening and then we flew to Kansas City for the weekend. Obviously the car stayed parked in its spot all three days and didn't go anywhere.
Tuesday when I got gas, I walked around and lo and behold I found a fairly serious scrape above the left front tire on the bumper. It’s a bad enough scrape that the bumper material is exposed and it will have to be repaired or else I’ll end up with rust. Plus it’s ugly.
Now that amount of damage couldn’t have been done without the other driver knowing he/she did the damage nor could it have been done by anyone not in the parking space to the left of me—the Ferals’ spot.
I had no note, no email, no nothing indicating that oops, sorry we damaged your car and here’s our phone number etc. Nope, not a word. You’d better believe I was steamed.
So for now, Kent and I have switched parking spaces. Now I park about a block away where I don’t have to see the Ferals' car and don’t have to wonder what the heck they are doing to do next. I’m still irate but at least it’s not cranking up my blood pressure.
So that's my anger management strategy. I am avoiding the source of the frustration.
5 comments:
God, I can't even tell you how many bad neighbors I've had. Most of them in rental apts so moving was easier. But, when we bought and sold a house within 12 months because of neighbors? Thought I'd lose my mind. I wish you could just sell and get out of there but I know that's easier said than done. Because, really, that's your best option. The Ferals will never change and will only continue to make you miserable.
This is the first time I've ever had bad neighbors--EVER. I'm just appalled by them and can't understand how or why someone would act the way they do. I long for the day we can sell this place and get the heck outta Dodge.
I sympathize about the temper; I get like that too, and it seems to me you're doing all you can to stay sane in that situation.
And the repair estimate is just over $500. So it's just enough to be a PITA but not enough to make it worth filing an insurance claim.
Heartfelt "aaurgh!"
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