There aren't many rentals out there right now and I'd say for every one advertised there are at least thirty applicants. More if the place is clean, maintained, and in a decent neighborhood. Competition is tough. In the recent past I've been put on waiting lists as the landlords are overwhelmed by the response. Besides my long lists of non-toxic needs, this competition makes it even more difficult to find a new home. I want desperately to move out of Rathole. I'm a prisoner here. It's depressing.
I found another rental. The key is to respond as soon as they are posted, but I was told it was rented and the guy backed out. I should have taken that as a sign. It's a small, freestanding cottage with a small yard. I had misgivings right away as it's located in the same town as the Moldy Slumlady's mold-invested dive, but I was going to be up in that area and I thought I'd just look. Just look. Famous last words.
It was small and cute with a little bedroom loft. It had all electric appliances and heat and real hardwood floors. It also had a carpet, but the carpet had been offgassing for four years. They allowed pets. Carpet and pets on my "no way" list. It also had a non-existent crawlspace sealed up with wood planks with little evidence of ventilation...and a roof covered in moss. That screams MOLD.
Third strike, your out! I should have high-tailed it back to my van and drove away, instead I walked inside expecting to smell mildew and mold. For a flash of a moment I did smell something, and then it stopped. That was weird. Then nothing. I smelled nothing. This gave me great amount of hope. I liked the landlady. She also didn't stink. She was an organic gardener.
Fifteen minutes later my head did a little spin and stopped. That was weird. Then my lungs started feeling heavy, but it was minor. I stalled, buying time to stay in the space and continued to breathe deeply. The spin and lung issue was a little perplexing. Did the former tenants have cats? There are two heaters in this tiny space, both on full blast. The place is hot. Is that what caused my reaction or is the heat camouflaging the smell.
As I inspected the place, I'm finding it unreasonably dirty with dead bugs in the window sills and soap scum in the shower. Old, used soap is left in the dispenser. Gross. I justified all this with
no one is as clean as I am and instead of registering this as a concern I wondered if I'm just a weirdo and need to be reasonable
. I'm not looking for perfection, just safety.
I took an application and the landlady told me to get it back to her by the weekend as that's when she'd be making her choice. This house was being rented month to month (so rare) and the landlady wasn't charging for the application nor credit check (so rare). It didn't cost anything to take the application or even submit it. Still my instincts are screaming at me. The head spin and lung reaction was a little unnerving, but it was minor and went away immediately. What am I missing? Can I do this?
I sought counseling from my two closest friends. One is a nurse. Neither are chemically sensitive. I list my concerns hoping one of them would recognize my idealistic pattern of ignoring the obvious. I even expressed the concern the landlady reminded me of the Moldy Slumlady: both are from California, about the same age, have organic gardens, and both own a house that used to be a garage without an inadequate foundation. My friends tell me to jump right in there and give it a shot. Both know I'm desperate and are trying to be supportive. Advice is free and neither of them will lose money because of my bad decisions.
So why am I ignoring the obvious?
Once I'm home I fill out the application and email it to the landlady. Why not? What do I have to lose? Yet. When the landlady started calling my references, I start praying she doesn't pick me. But I AM selected! Out of 35 applicants, the landlady wants me. I WIN! Damn...
But my instincts still are screaming at me. Do I listen?
I email the landlady asking her more specific questions:
Is there a plastic vapor barrier under the house? NO.
Were the carpets cleaned before my visit? NO.
Did she use any air fresheners before my visit? I asked this because during my visit my head was spinning, but I smelled nothing. Did she use Febreze which would have annihilated my sense of smell? Perhaps the chemicals caused the spin? NO. She claimed she doesn't use air fresheners nor toxic cleaners.
She figured out really quickly I was chemically sensitive and did tell me there is a mill in the town. I knew that. I've been in that town many times with no reaction. I told her I was worried about the foundation and crawlspace as without a vapor barrier there would be mold issues. She claimed when they remodeled there was no mold to be found anywhere. She has asthma and is very sensitive to mold and chemicals as well. This gave me great hope. I made the assumption the carpets just needed a good cleaning. I volunteered to do it for her since I had the non-toxic shampoo. She had the carpet cleaner.
WHY am I volunteering to clean a rental that should be clean before I arrive? Why am I even considering a filthy place that screams loudly
THESE PEOPLE ARE SLOBS.
This is where I should have walked away, but I'm desperate. I want it to work. My instincts are screaming at me and I'm ignoring them. I planned to go look at it one more time and then I'll decide if I want to give this woman money. For a moment I consider I should stay the night in it before I sign anything, but the carpets were never cleaned. I wouldn't last the night sleeping in the same space as filthy carpets.
I looked a second time. This time I don't smell anything. My head doesn't spin. My lungs don't even hurt or feel heavy. I check the ceiling for any leaks. I ask about the overabundance of heaters and why the house is kept so hot. She doesn't give me any reasons just how wonderfully they work. Heat would camouflage stink, but I forget that. I want so desperately for this to work. I look at the floors and walls. At one point I get on my knees down on the carpet to check a corner and when I get up I have long white fur all over my black pants. I ask the woman if the previous tenants had cats and she says they shouldn't have, but maybe they did without her knowing. I make the ignorant assumption I might be reacting to cats and if the carpets are cleaned, that might do the trick. I'm being hopeful and idealistic, but I need this to work.
I sign over an enormous amount of money to cover security deposit and rent and she hands me the keys along with the carpet shampooer. I vacuum and clean the carpets. Immediately I feel sick and my head starts spinning. The water the carpet cleaner is sucking up is nearly black with dirt. So gross. How can people live in such filthy? Granted, on the surface the place looks clean, just don't look too closely. The longer I'm in the house, the sicker I get. I'm tempted to rip up a corner of the carpet to see what's under. At one point I leave to go out to my van, come back in and I can smell the musty stink in the air. Is it mold? Did the moisture from the carpet cleaner incite the mold spores in the air? The electric heaters would have dried the inside of the house out. By the time I leave I am so sick my whole body is hurting, but I think I just need to get away. At this point I'm STILL hopeful!
I have yet to sign up for electricity, garbage, and internet. Internet is a one year commitment. Is it mold? Is it the carpet? Is it the pet dirt? All these things are on my NO WAY list, so why did I even consider them for a second? I kept thinking if I can fix whatever problem, I'd be fine. That's what I did with my house. I fixed it and it's safe. But with a rental, I forget I don't have the luxury of making changes. It's not my house. The landlady is adamant there is no mold so she's not going to let me fix something that isn't there. I'm feeling worse with every passing minute. By the time I get home I'm feeling the full effects of some kind of exposure.
I call the landlady when I get home and tell her I can't move in. I consider I should wait a week and go back, but then I would lose two months rent instead of one. She tells me it might be the mill as it causes people to get sick. I tell her it's mold. She tells me it isn't. I keep wondering why Californians don't think a vapor barrier under a house is necessary. She thinks it might be the carpet, maybe residue from past cleanings. I doubt it. I saw the dirt that came up. I doubt if those carpets had ever been cleaned. I wonder why the HELL I cleaned them and she didn't? I give her my 30 day notice according to the rental agreement I signed less than five hours ago (how ridiculous). She tells me to sleep on it and decide in the morning. She wants me to be the tenant. Even though we are talking on the phone I can hear the dollar signs cha-changing in her eyes. I'm the winner after all.
All night I can't breathe, my body itches and burns, my head pounds and I feel sick to my stomach. This isn't cats. I haven't had a reaction like this for a long time. Even the house of the Moldy Slumlady didn't affect me like this. Anytime I start to doze off I wake up gasping for air. The landlady didn't realize "sleeping on it" would only make me feel worse. By the morning my decision is clear and I give an official notice. I lose $700 in less than 12 hours. She said she will return my security deposit. She claims she has to go through the application process again. I tell her she doesn't if she had 35 applicants. This is how she justifies keeping money she doesn't deserve. This is my reward for being the winning candidate, the responsible one, and my reward for ignoring my instincts. Lucky me.
No more rentals for me. Not only should I not be wandering into strange, toxic homes, but I don't even have the sense to trust my instincts. I'm an idiot and it's too expensive to keep trying. At this point I'm convinced I'll never be able to find a place to rent that's reasonably priced unless I want to be in a slum, and I can't afford to buy a new home in a nice neighborhood. Cheap rent or cheap mortgage and I'd be stuck once again in a trailer-trash community where all the poor people and their low-class barking dogs congregate. Whatever move I make, rent or buy, I can't imagine it'll be an improvement. I might as well stay right where I am. At least it's safe, that's if I can manage the growing depression due to my circumstances. I am a prisoner.
I wish I could find an advocate. Someone who understands chemical sensitivity who would keep my instincts in check and go to bat for me. Someone to scream at me,
Look at what you are saying, IDIOT, this isn't right for you! If I end up in the hospital unconscious, I'd need someone like this. A body guard to stand over my helpless body and scream at doctors and nurses,
Keep those nasty chemicals and drugs away from her! Are you wearing perfume, you ignorant fool, stand back! I think anyone who is chemically sensitive needs an advocate. I'd be a good advocate for a chemically-sensitive person. If I knew anyone in my area, I'd volunteer for them.
Unfortunately, I am alone. Only the stupid move to Rathole and get stuck here.