I have no idea what to say here.
The last two weeks has been hairy hell on two wheels. I don't really want to go into detail, lord knows I've recounted this story enough in the gap between blogs. Turns out my ex housemate (the one I was complaining about in previous post) is nothing but a bully, who is not accustomed to strong women.
Here are a list of numbers and the significance over the past fortnight....
1 - AVO, assault charges (against him), court appearances, threats against my life etc etc. Directly related to the number of times I moved.
2 - the most nights I spent in any place. Sofas and floors were very popular. Also the number of nights I expected to sleep in the car.
3 - police escorts to pick up clean clothes and feed the cats. Also the number of days where I did not eat, because eating would have been a waste of time (all the stress vomiters raise your hands). Presumably the number of weeks it will take me to catch up on the blogosphere.
4 - the number of people I stayed with during this time
8 - nights where I did not return home
12 - the number of hours I waited at police stations
150 - the amount of money stolen from my wallet
650 - the amount of money I borrowed off family to raise bond to get into my new place.
700 - the amount of kilometers I drove to various places of residence.
all - the toys i know and/or suspect he 'investigated' while I was unwilling to return to the house. No irony, but the same number that I threw out when I packed up.
The police were amazing, in particular the officer who took my statement the first night. She swung it so she could escort me to the house when the officer at the front desk told me to try a different station. My only gripe is that he wasn't charged with assault straight away. He'd had a week to iron out his story and deny anything he couldn't explain.
I could never have gotten through this without my friends, especially the original, because we had been in a share situation before, and he could tell me everything the guy alleged was absolutely not true, and I could believe him where I'd doubt myself.
Mum caught a train up here as soon as she could, to help me move. She hired the ute, and drove it, the day after she'd had a sleepless night on a train. My workmates were great too. They had no objections when I took two sick days to move. They gave some really good suggestions on keeping the cats safe, and the eyecandy even escorted me to the house on Monday to pick up some stuff.
The real estate were cunts.
