I Am Tired of Having My Patience Tested This Weekend

Last week, I shared how I was detoxing from very stressful construction problems. Most of them stemmed from my developer trying to sabotage my project after I cut him loose. Well, can you believe it has gotten worse? Yesterday, no amount of detoxing was going to stop me from losing my sh!t, which I did promptly and loudly. So, what happened?

I left on Wednesday for a video shoot. I had been really nervous about the shoot and really wasn’t thinking of anything but that. My contractor and neighbor promised that he would get work done on the lot while I was away and even bought a wheelbarrow. I didn’t check in while I was gone because I had very little service and just trusted that he would get it done.

The Arrival

When I returned on Saturday evening, I realized there was no progress on the lot. I didn’t think much of it because I know that sometimes he gets called in to work at the park and handle emergencies. Whether it’s an uncapped sewer or a guest that needs to be parked, they call him. I try to never interfere with his work for the park and have always told him that what I need him to do comes second. So, I just assumed we would get started today.

But, when I asked him the best place to park the truck, he said the project was on pause. The developer had come to my lot the day I left, snooped around, and measured it. According to my contract, this is not even allowed. He has to provide 24 hours’ notice before doing so unless there’s an emergency. And, if there is an emergency, he is still responsible for trying to reach me immediately and notifying me of the “inspection”. None of that was done. I learned only from my contractor.

The Blow-Up

Considering everything that has happened that I shared in the earlier post, this was the concrete block that broke the camel’s back. I completely lost it. First, I called the CFO, but she didn’t answer the phone. I pulled out of my lot so fast, that I spun into a half donut when I turned, straightened up, and floored it down a dirt road I usually travel at 5 mph. I skidded to a stop by his trailer but he wasn’t there.

The original builder who became incapacitated by COVID-19 was outside with his daughter. He asked me what was going on, so I told him. I blew up. Way up. I went off. I was furious. When I ran out of words, I half-spun the truck in reverse and took off back toward my lot, and called the CFO again. She didn’t answer the phone; the developer did.

I asked him what was the deal with my lot. He told me I was over my lot line, but he would “let it slide.” I told him that wasn’t going to work and needed it in writing and he told me he’s not giving me anything in writing. He then threatened me saying, “Oh, so you wanna make a big deal out of this? Is that what you want? Make up your mind because we can do that!”

Click.

I hung up and called his boss in Florida.

The Call

I was surprised she answered on a Saturday evening and so promptly. But, I leaned right into it and went off over the whole situation. That this man had really sat there, waited until I got my concrete forms up, and then snuck onto my lot when I was gone. And then, instead of reaching out to me about my lot, he spoke to my neighbor.

To make matters worse, he was originally supposed to measure the lot himself and never did. He promised to do it from March 17th. Yesterday was June 4th! There are only three lots occupied by owners in the development, so it’s not like he was overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

“What did you want me to do?” I demanded. “Just not measure the lot and sit around and wait another half a year for him to do whatever was convenient when it was convenient for him??”

To add to all of this: remember what I said about my contractor? That he is the same one who does most of the work here? Well, who do you think the development would have asked to measure and map out my lot anyway? Obviously, the person who I paid to do it myself!

The Outcome

While on the phone, I reminded her for the millionth time that the developer was her monkey and her circus. I told her if she thought that Jamaicans are peace-loving, reggae-singing people, she should check again to see what we’re actually known for. And, that if I can’t enjoy my lot in peace, no one will because I will call every media company and inspection agency down here.

Within five minutes or so of hanging up, I had an email confirming that I could proceed with my construction project as-is. This morning, after a two-hour meeting with the stakeholders, they determined that I was not, in fact, over my lot line. The concrete forms were, but those are temporary and will be removed. And, the dome itself will still sit six inches back from the edge of the concrete.

The developer is now effectively banned from interacting with me or handling anything related to me or my lot. He has no business up here and only the owners can manage that. The owners themselves have also said they will wait until I get to infrastructure stuff to get involved and I should update them when I get to that.

The Laundry

I had several outfit changes for the video shoot and had to conserve water while at camp. So, my plan yesterday was to wash all my dirty clothes and the bed linen. Needless to say, after my one-person riot, I didn’t get any of that done. I arrived at 4 PM yesterday. The sun sets at around 8:30 PM and it was almost dark outside by the time I calmed down. I didn’t even remember to eat until midnight.

So, today, I decided I would get laundry done. When I returned to the laundry room to switch my clothes to the dryer, the lid was up on my washer. This made me suspicious, so I picked the clothes up and sniffed them. I had used twice the recommended detergent but my clothes didn’t smell all that clean.

The Discovery

After digging around, I found a man’s shirt and a pair of socks mixed in with my laundry―a load that even included my undies! Considering that the lid was up, I suspect there were other pieces of clothing inside and they dug through it and took it out. These three items must have been what they missed.

I was pissed. Now, I had to wash a perfectly good load of clothes all over again after waiting for 45 minutes for them to be done. So, I left a little note on the lid of my washer this time. I don’t even care if it was accidental. How do you just flip a lid open and toss things in without confirming whether this was the load you or another family member was washing?

And why didn’t they just run my load again out of common decency? Instead, they thought they had covered up their tracks, it seems, and I could have taken home dirty underwear that smelled like a man threw his dirty socks and sweaty shirt in on the rinse cycle. I have a pretty good idea who the culprit is and he doesn’t even live here.

Honestly, I hope no one tries my patience for a third time this weekend. I am fresh out! So, if you’re reading this and planned on getting on my nerves today, please reschedule for next week.

Thank you.

On the upside, we resume construction this evening.

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