Being Renters

Here is the cherry on the crap sundae that has been my week.  Bear in mind that I may be getting ahead of myself, but those of you that know me know that that is what I do, and you wouldn't have me any other way, right?  Right??!  Anyway... we rent half of a duplex.  We have rented this half of this duplex for a mere five months.  I like it.  There are two full bathrooms, so I haven't had a need to step around baby bath toys in order to shower for almost half of a year.  My counters are littered with hair products and discarded jewelry and not butt paste, wipes containers and booger-filled washcloths (don't you judge me, Martha). 

However, Matthew was observant for once in his life and saw a peculiar growth along the side of the tub.  Mold.  The black kind.  Either the previous tenants or the property cleaners painted over it before we moved in, and a few weeks ago, it started to re-emerge.  Ew.  We thought little of it until nonsense with my next-door neighbor began to occur.  Her entire basement was flooded with mud and sand and the same dark, quiet plant-life.  She was told the growth was so extensive that she would need to move out (and never return) within a week.  Crazy-town.  We got a lil' scared then and decided to report our little friend.  The same symptom, although a different cause, has the same remedy.  If the mold is of a certain intensity, we gots to get got (within 30 days).  What?!  I cannot believe this. 

We had two options, neither of which involved moving within Coeur d'Alene for another year.  One: Matt gets a much-coveted career move to Virginia, whenever.  Two: we resolve to stay in good ol' Cd'A for another year and in that time, get to a place where we can buy a home here. Now we have one option: wait.  And that can obviously go one of two ways.  And we go back to the original schematic or we add a pain-in-the-ass step of moving into another shoddy rental.

Insert *grrr* and *hair-pulling* here.