Station Status Update – Why I need to move NOW!!!


I woke up angry, probably because of my roommate situation imploding. And the worst thing is the particular roommate who caused the situation? Won’t ever admit the fact that they’re the cause. They’ll blame US for everything. Yet they are the one responsible for every bit of stress caused to both me and my husband for the past three years.
Let me explain –
T1 – the roommate that we don’t care for but don’t really have a problem with
T2 – the roommate we despise and no longer want anything to do with
We arrived in Lincoln City, OR in 2015. We were invited by the Ts to help set up a business. My husband had already survived TWO FAILED BUSINESSES with them but this one was a gold mine waiting to happen. Why? It was a cannabis farm in a burgeoning legalized cannabis market. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance to be a full partner at that? At that point in time it really was a multi-million dollar business opportunity.
So on May 11th, 2015 (my birthday, by the way) we packed everything into our little truck and drove the 531 miles (854.5 km) to Oregon. We knew this was going to be a one way trip for us. We also knew we were going into something interesting because we have no family and had no other friends – because they were still friends at that point – up here. We were coming in blind as well because the house we were coming to was owned by one of the two’s parents, who’d retired up to the coast.
We got here and our truck became problematic. It was smashed in the back, we’d gotten it that way, and really not legal to drive here. So we parked it and left it there. My husband was eager to get started. The Ts were glad to see us – as were T1’s parents. The deal was I’d provide groceries as our form of rent while my husband and the other two worked on the business. However, the first of the imbalances became very obvious at this point. The other two weren’t required to do ANYTHING to provide for the household. They weren’t required to find jobs to produce financial aid. They weren’t really required to do any housework, though T1 did some of the cooking. T2 played at gardening and mowed the lawn ONCE in a while. That’s it.
As soon as my husband got here, he pretty much got handed the duties of taking on the bulk of the hard labor on the farm as well as working on the cannabis business. Except there was no movement on the cannabis business. There was some personal medical growing on the property, but the most that was done was some half assed attempts at getting a few things for the commercial grow while my husband did about 95% of the farm work. The Ts sat on their asses and played video games.
I was the only one with an income, other than T1’s parents who owned the property. They had their retirement savings and their Social Security payments. I had (and still have temporarily) my disability. So the deal was I’d help pay for the groceries for the six of us. Within a few months it evolved into me paying for all the groceries with my limited $750/mo. It was really hard, but I managed to feed 6 people on my very limited income. I managed with some clever budgeting and SNAP for food for my husband and myself. But I was still paying over half my disability for the other four.
At that point I also was pretty much forced to take over the cooking by T1’s mom. She was very sick with multiple health issues and T1 had a bad habit of not serving dinner until 8 PM or later. She couldn’t eat that late and would get sick. So I started cooking dinner. Then I wanted breakfast, as did everyone else, at a reasonable hour. So I started cooking breakfast. Then lunch. At that point I was pretty much relegated to house slave.
Why do I call myself that? Because all housework, other than the living room which belonged to T1’s parents, was dumped on me. I would ask for help and the only one I could rely on was my husband. He was the only one who did anything around the house with any regularity. The others would half ass things and nine times out of ten, I’d have to go back after them and fix shit. Also, it didn’t matter if I was sick or injured. I’d have to be in the kitchen if I wanted decent food at a decent hour. In fact, I could count on not being allowed a full recovery from anything – including fucking SURGERY – because I couldn’t trust the Ts.
It took my husband (in mid 2016) taking things into his own hands to get the cannabis business going. He did the bulk of the work himself, yet T2 took all the credit for everything. T2 claims THEY pushed my husband into it when they did nothing but play video games until my husband guilted them into getting involved. They did as little as possible, other than demand money from T1’s parents. When T1’s mom died on Valentine’s Day 2016, said roommate pushed even harder to get money because the wife wasn’t afraid to stand up to T2 and tell them no.
T2 drained our landlord’s retirement to the point where he’s down to maybe a year or two’s worth of money left. T1 let T2 do this, and even helped T2 by pushing their dad into paying out for things when he didn’t want to. T1’s dad expected to be paid back in full by the cannabis business, but T2 made it clear they had no intention of paying him back. Instead, they were going to do some shadowy, half imagined “improvements” to the 10 acre farm we all share. My husband was then expected to give up a portion of his share to pay back the actual retirement money. This is yet another example of T2’s narcissistic attitude.
T2 has said many times that they see people as pawns. They have no emotional connection with anyone. They’re only “friends” with T1 because T1 gives them everything they want. T2 claims to be a grand strategist, yet T2 couldn’t get off their ass to save the cannabis business when it became obvious that haste was needed over laziness.
Even now T2 treats us like shit. They demand that we do more work in the house than we are, even though we’re the ones with viable jobs. We provide the only income – STILL – in the house. We pay rent by paying rent to our landlord. How rent is calculated is bullshit and the fact that they aren’t being forced to contribute is bullshit as well, but that’s another vent for another post.

On Thursday things finally came to a head. T2 made the mistake of getting in my face over something stupid, accusing me of “stealing money from <landlord>, demanding treats we don’t deserve.” This coming from the person who is constantly taking money from him for stupid, trivial things even though they don’t have a job or a viable home business to bring in money to repay our landlord. I lost my temper. I hit the Big Red Button. I went nuclear.
I ripped into T2, calling them an ungrateful leech, a burden on me and the landlord, a useless lump of flesh, and many other things I’ve kept inside for the past 3 years. T2 just stared at me, eyes wide, and when I stopped talking, bolted from the kitchen where we’d all been getting lunch. T1 followed them out. Now, here’s what pissed me off even more. T2 convinced themselves – AND T1 – that the blow up never happened. They convinced themselves – AND T1 – that everything was still status quo and we were all still good friends.
I told my husband the whole story over FB messenger and told him I no longer cared if he lost his temper and went off on them. He’s been holding back because I asked him to. Well, he got home from work and we talked a bit about the day, and I told him about the fact that the Ts were acting like I’d never lost my temper at all. This irritated him as much as it did me. Then he went in and took a shower. Then I took a shower. We have to pass through T2’s room to get to the shower the four of us share. Before I went into the shower, T2 messaged my husband and asked him to come to their room to discuss business.
I got out of my shower and they were still talking. I got back to the room and was trying to upload stuff to YouTube when I heard shouting from across the hall. I turned my music up because yelling is still a trigger for my PTSD but I was still half listening. My husband came into our room, slammed the door, and told me he’d finally let his temper go. He said T2 had a look of shock and fear in their eyes because my husband actually got into T2’s face when he blew.
T2 knocked on our door a few minutes later and wanted to talk. T2 started demanding things of my husband, saying they felt disrespected, that my husband was being rude, that my husband had gone off for no reason, etc. My husband got up, got in their face again, and yelled at them to get out of the room. It took three times before T2 got the hint and left. T2 was very pale when they left. I don’t think they expected my husband to react that way. He’s never even shown he had such a temper in the six years they’ve known each other.
So now we’re looking for a place to rent up here. We can afford, at most, $1000/mo and still pay all our bills. We’ve also in the market for a car. One of my coworkers is bringing one in today for us to look at. If it isn’t for us, he’s already put in a word with the local car dealer to talk shop with my husband – and try to work out something so we don’t have to put down a down payment.
In 4 hours of internet searching I found THREE potential options for housing in this place that’s shit for rentals. In 8 hours of working as a cashier yesterday I ended up with something like SEVEN options. Plus a good suggestion on how to go about our search. I have customers AND co-workers watching in their small towns (that are within a 30-45 minute drive from here) for rentals popping up.
My roommates can barely function socially. My husband and I, through our constant contact with the public, are building up quite the social credit in this town. We are well liked, always meeting new people, and always having people asking about how our lives are going. My husband’s job is to schmooze people. He’s in good with the Chamber of Commerce, many high ranking members of our community, and is even connected with people at the casino that essentially owns a good chunk of this town. I’m familiar to many of the local restaurant owners who come to the grocery store I work at to get stuff when being busy runs them out of supplies. You’d be surprised at how often that gets me some interesting conversations and tips.
We need money. We need a vehicle. And we need our own place. We’re NOT doing the roommate thing again for a very long time. If ever. It’s just going to be me, my husband, and our fur kids. And realistically? That’s all we really want in life now.

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