“Reading is one form of escape. Running for your life is another.”
- Lemony Snicket
I'm out! Here's the story.
My landlord (who drives a $60K car and rents weekly rooms) was too busy on Tuesday (the day I moved in) to get me the lease to sign. He told me he'd be by on Saturday morning but, on Thursday evening I found that my roommates were having drugs delivered to the apartment. First I wrote about it here (I think best when I have everything written down) and you guys were pretty adamant that I should leave while I could and before this effected my teaching career (as a teacher it wouldn't look good to have my house busted for illicit drugs).
I had Friday off so I called my little sister in the morning to get her opinion. She agreed with Steve; yes I could handle it but I shouldn't need to. Next I called the folks and that's when things got crazy. My father was on his way back to their house and turned around. He was at my place within five minutes and in another seven I was completely moved out. Yup, I have so few possessions that it only took a couple trips, bed and truck included. I left the keys on the windowsill. I called the landlord, got voice mail, and asked him to call me back. He texted, I told him (again) to call me. I still haven't heard from him but I'm going to be asking for a full refund since I was only there for three days.
So that was yesterday at about 11am. Last night I slept in my sister's old bedroom. It's covered in painted stars by day and a glow in the dark galaxy at night, which is a little disconcerting. I'm going to spend the day doing laundry and applying to wilderness therapy jobs.
Thanks for the input guys, it was very helpful.