So my housing contract is up at the end of May. Where my housemate and I live at the moment was always a temporary stop. We’d spent four years in our previous place, other housemates hadn’t worked out and we’d sort of downscaled rent-wise. But further downscaling is needed. There were complicating factors, so it was only a few weeks ago that I came to the conclusion that we had to get somewhere cheaper, but we’d been discussing the possibility of moving since February.
Easter passed and the next Friday rolled around; we’ve now got six weeks before the contract ends. I make arrangements with work to have a day off each week until the end of April to house-hunt. I tell my housemate by text so we can get started (and so he can book days off, too). And then I get home.
“Did you get my text?”
I put my coat away and put my shopping in the fridge. I’m getting a strange vibe off the guy. He seems to be avoiding conversation.
“I’ll get started looking for things to view. Is there anything I need to know?” I ask, expecting something along the lines of ‘Take a look at this one’ or ‘I need X’.
“Yeah, actually,” he replies. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I’ve decided to get a place on my own. That might change your plans.”
Bear in mind that one former housemate was a complete swine to live with, but belligerent with it, so we felt we had to force him out. Thinking that he might try to beat us to getting new housemates, I went as far as signing the contract behind his back. We still let that guy know in mid-February that he was out on his ear in June. So here’s my housemate of five years, who I’m ostensibly on good terms with, giving me six weeks’ notice. He knows I’m in temp work and could end up on the dole any day, so I can’t strike out alone myself right now.
“Couldn’t you have let me know this sooner?”
“Well, I’ve only just made the decision.”
If he’d have said that he was even thinking about it, I could have made contingency plans. Six weeks’ notice is not enough for me to find housemates. I can’t just take a room somewhere because I have all my own furniture. I’ve been on the receiving end of some dick moves in my time, but this makes the top 10.
Fortunately, although he’s left me up Shit Creek, I did have a paddle stashed away for emergencies. My mum lives on the other side of the city, so I have somewhere to go while I get back on my feet. I’m not full of bitter resentment, and I don’t expect the next month to be unpleasant, but I do have to file this situation under Sometimes People Suck.