You know those moments when you realize that you are an adult and you can't rely on the parents to call your high school science teacher to complain about a misunderstanding? You realize that IS all on you. This is so small, but I remember getting up in the morning when I was living at home and noticing that Mom cleaned the kitchen and did the dishes and cleaned up the clutter on the dining room table, after us girls' had gone to bed. I remember feeling protected, in some weird way. It was comforting knowing that while you were in bed, someone was taking care of the little stuff and the house looked differently (cleaned up) in the morning. Now, the way I leave it, that is the way it is staying. The little reminders that I am no longer living at home and can rely on Mom to wash that final dish. Sigh. Our landlord only positive contribution to my life is the home that I live in. For the second month, he has not "received" our money order. Kelly and I realized that we have to send Money Orders to him, otherwise, he was going to wait a month to cash our checks and one lesson is all it takes when that happens. It is not as if this is his only property. Him and his wife purchased this home for his daughters to live in while they attended KSU (they live in Arizona) and this year falls between the years that his precious daughters are not in college. Moral of my stress: He calls me at 10.46 pm last night and I am in bed by 10 pm, folks. I am older and I like to feel refreshed when I am at work on facebook killing time between 8 am and 5 pm. He left a message saying he did not receive our money order for this month and my bank proved that I sent the MO on June 28th. I called him back and left a pleasant message that the bank shows the MO has not been cashed yet so it has to be at his, what I am assuming, is a massive cluttered mess. Why do you I assume it is at his house? Memory lane, here I come.
This same scenario happened mid-April when he accused us as to not have sent our MO for that month. My bank showed that it WAS cashed on March 28th by his signature. I called him back and what do ya know? He did cash and said it must have gotten lost in his memory. Yes, because I cash 650 checks all the time and forget about them, constantly. How could I forget THAT feeling? No apologies from him for the stress and time it took contacting my bank (which is a phenomenal bank, btw). Ugh.
So yeah, I am missing those days when Mom took care of finishing up the dishes and putting the final touches in the dining room. Then, I remember how sheltered those days were. Maybe dealing with incompetent hippies is not that bad. Maybe. Actually, I know it is better. I just like to wish for those days, for small moments.