Karma really is a bitch.

After writing a little piece a couple of months ago about a fellow student in one of my classes reaking of mothballs, the gods have decided to impart their judgement and it isn’t kind.  In fact, it’s suffocating.

You see I live 2 floors above a rather “trashy” little family.

Stinky Stanky Mothball Me. I guess flies wouldn't be attracted to the smell of moth ball fumes, but it's more a demonstration of my artistic abilities. Stare in awe.

They leave their laundry in the machines for days, literally.  They litter the lawn with their children’s toys, claiming ownership over an apparently communal space.  And they yell and scream at their children and each other at all times of the day and night.  But this last action of theirs is beyond forgivable, and fucking ridiculous.

After seeing a cockroach in their apartment, they have decided to put mothballs into the heat vents.  The same vents that run through the entire house, and that all of us share.  Awesome.  So now, my little home at the top of the stairs reaks of mothballs, reaks.

The air is thick with the stuff, so much that it’s been giving Meghan and I headaches.  And now in math class, I’m no longer haunted by the smell of mothballs following me, I am the one bringing the haunt.

The front row of Math 1118 at Langara is now completely saturated by the odor of an impromptu mothball posse.

Now when I get out of the swimming pool my towel smells, my retardedly expensive jackets smells, and my bed smells: all of it moth balls.  I’ve even convinced myself twice now that people have moved seats on the bus because of the way I smell.

And to top it all off, apparently this little family two floors down is unreachable.  Great.

More from Stink Wallet

• Funny Writing | My Financial Circumcision | Writing | Vancouver | Musings, Tangents, Rants | StinkWallet
• Random Writing--Winter Sun | Writing | Vancouver | Musings, Tangents, Rants | StinkWallet
• And Mirrors to Cut with… | Writing | Vancouver | Musings, Tangents, Rants | StinkWallet