A day in the life

Fifteen months into mobbing me, the harassment continues pretty much day and night. I’ve experimented with numerous ways of quieting the harassment so that I can sleep and they increasingly try to interfere with my ability to function. The theory seems to be that if the threats, intimidation, and blackmail don’t work and I don’t die from the stress, perhaps sheer physical exhaustion will make it impossible for me to function enough to earn a living. Sometimes, between near exhaustion and the right combination of window coverings with open windows and earplugs, I manage to almost get enough sleep.

Like this morning.

I was drinking my coffee and working at the computer when the builder of a nearby house whose offer on my own home was refused more than two years back showed up with another older guy. They got out of his Mercedes and stood looking out toward the street from the house he built that has remained off-market pretty much since he apparently told my landlord that I was “just a renter” and attempted to blame me for an offer falling through on the property.

As the pair stood there, a large construction vehicle slowly mounted the hillside. As the truck passed my car parked in front of my driveway, the driver scraped up a loogey and spat it backwards, out the window.

Minutes later, the builder and his pal were gone. I went out with my camera and photographed the still wet spittle on my car window, nearly dribbling down to a bumpersticker I recently added: “PROPERTY MOBBING IS CRIMINAL.”

Not sure how long the DNA is good for.


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