On Tuesday, my surrogate mother broke into my illegal basement suite. And since you don’t believe me (or maybe you do), here’s what happened.
On Monday, an order from Amazon.ca arrived for me. Of course, since I live in an illegal basement suite, I don’t have a mail box; consequently, the order went upstairs, where it was received by my surrogate mother. She then wrote me a note to that effect and slide it under the (locked) door which separates our two units. And then she went out, so I couldn’t collect.
Later that same evening, while I was in the midst of writing my latest Torontoist entry, my phone rang. It was my surrogate mother. I knew what she was calling about–she tends to get like this when she needs to talk to me–but because I was having a bout of writer’s bloc at the time I decided not to pick up. The following morning, I was in the shower–to reiterate, I was in the shower–when I heard a banging noise coming from the living room. I decided it was nothing–because why would it be? But when I opened the door a few minutes later I found…a box from Amazon.ca sitting on the living room floor.
I froze. My surrogate mother was gone–but the point remains, she broke into my house. Firstly, I didn’t even know she had a key. Secondly, she broke into my house! I want to know how she decided this was appropriate. I’ve no doubt she thought nothing of it; she probably thought she was doing me a favour. Instead, she only succeeded in nudging me a little bit closer towards a permanent exit.
These people…I’m telling you.
Anyway, I’m off to Thunder Bay tonight. Heppler’s getting married in two days. The mind boggles.