The apartment that I lived in for two years was like a dump truck on wheels.
It had to be moved.
It was always full of trash, the floorboards were chipped, the ceiling was leaking, the walls were creaking and falling down, and the carpet was torn off the floor.
The apartment was filthy.
It wasn’t even clean.
I spent countless hours cleaning and washing the apartment every single day.
I was so used to living in a dump, but when I moved in, it was different.
It’s been two years and I still feel as though I’m a new person living in an apartment that has become my home.
This is the story of how I came to live in a trash dump.
How I got my start living in trash and how I found a way to live my life there.
The first step was to get a new apartment.
The next was to find a good tenant.
I found the most promising person in the area, a single mother of three, and I got the lease.
The rental was cheap, and she was very nice.
She was very kind and caring.
I called her the day I signed the lease, and her name was on the list.
I gave her my phone number and told her to call me if anything happened.
The day I got home, I called to let her know that my apartment was clean.
The phone rang and it was a woman.
She said, “I’m ready for your apartment.”
I thought she was kidding, but she sounded so serious.
I said, What?
I was still nervous about living in the dump.
She asked, What do you need?
I told her that I was looking for a roommate and that I had a roommate.
I told the woman, I’m not ready yet.
The conversation went like this: You’re not ready for this?
I don’t think you should be here.
You don’t need to stay here.
She sounded upset, but then she started crying.
I knew I had to talk to someone, so I called the woman back and she came to the apartment and said, I just wanted to let you know that I’m so sorry.
I couldn’t believe what I heard.
She told me that the man who I was going to rent to was a drug addict and that he was a junkie.
She also told me to go home and sleep, because she didn’t want me to be in a bad mood.
The woman said that I would never see my son.
I didn’t believe her.
I had no idea what was going on.
I never told anyone that I left.
I stayed at her place, but I never went back to my apartment.
After about a week, I had other problems.
The landlord called me to tell me that I should leave, that I shouldn’t come back, and that there were too many homeless people in the building.
She didn’t give me any other options.
I thought, What are they going to do?
I had problems with my mother, my sister, and my two daughters, and all my friends.
I would not be able to stay at the apartment, so the landlord said that she was going get someone to move me to a place that is less dangerous.
I went to a friend of mine and asked him to move.
He said that the other person would be able.
The roommate was a young man, and we met him at a party.
He was the type of person who liked to drink a lot and was a huge drug user.
We became good friends.
One day, I came in and we got to talking about things.
We were talking about drugs and how they were being used by the homeless and the poor.
He told me he was going through some sort of mental breakdown and needed to get help.
I tried to talk him out of going back to the apartments.
I offered him a place with a better life for him, and he said he wanted to stay with me, but he didn’t think that he would be living with me anymore.
I asked him, If I can’t go back, how are you going to live here?
He told us that he’s got to stay because he doesn’t want to leave me.
He wouldn’t leave me alone.
I agreed to move him to another place that had a better living situation.
He agreed, and it happened quickly.
We moved into his place on the first floor.
It took about two weeks to get used to the new place.
The new place had an air conditioner and was clean, and there were no homeless people around.
We had a lot of fun.
The only thing I would have changed about this apartment is the trash.
The trash was still full of junk and we didn’t have any pets.
The garbage cans were full of garbage, and every day we would open the trash cans and find a few bottles of paint and plastic.
Sometimes, it would be the garbage that I didn`t care for