This is getting ridiculous For the past several damn months, we've had a former neighbor living in our basement. My Mom offered the basement to her after some chance meeting where said woman, we'll call her Sydney, told my Mom about her then-situation. Sydney claimed (I say claimed because I've since lost every ounce of trust I ever placed in her) that her soon to be ex-husband (they're separated) had gotten so vioolently drunk one night that she feared for her life and left, in the process leaving her 5 year-old son with him. Neighboor might have been a little misleading; they live(d, in Sydney's case) in a townhouse complex about a half-mile from here. Sydney then made the mistake of not going back for several days, whereupon her ex-husband filed for emergency custody (keep in mind that this story comes secondhand, from my Mom, so details may be a little shaky). The moral of the story is, she was forced to move into an apparently shady appartment complex on her non-existent income, where the landlord apparently made advances toward her. And my Mom, ever the good samaritan, let her move into our basement, which had just been cleaned out as a result of my Mom losing her job. Sydney pays not a speck of rent. She first asserted that she'd make up for it by doing housework (though my Mom kept insisting she didn't want restitution), but even those claims rang hollow as she fell back on an apparently crippling leg condition. That's unfair; she is in fact scheduled to have surgery. But she has a job now; she'd been searching for several weeks, and landed a job as a waitress at a country club. Pay was significantly above minimum wage, and the tips from rich white golfers would have only served to bolster that. I speak in the past tense because she quit that job after a single day, waited two more weeks, and landed an almost minimum-wage job as the pharmacist's assisstant at the local CVS. Her logic? Being a waitress is "degrading." Meanwhile, her 5 year-old gets shuttled back and forth between houses, tending toward the father's house more often these days because she likes to go out at nights. And then she has the gall to complain to us about how much she hates being the single working mother. She takes calls from her ex, despite the express advice to the contrary from her lawyer, so she can sit there on the phone and get yelled at, then hang up and complain about how mean he is. But it gets better. No really; much, much better. She drinks. Not to the point of being totally unable to function, but to the point of tipsiness, the point of making totally inappropriate comments to myself and my two younger brothers (ages 15 and 9), our friends, my father, etc. Objects disappear from our areas of the house, only to reappear in the basement several weeks later. She has a perfectly functioning bathroom and shower down there, but generally weasels her way into occupying my mother's bathtub for hours at a time. A lot of this feels petty, but it adds up. Especially in light of the most recent events: A). She took my mother's prescription pain medication. My mother received it when she broke her tailbone several months ago. There were 20 pills to begin with. My mother took 6. When my mother went to take one the other day for a migraine that had been plaguing her for days, there were none left, though the bottle was on one of Sydney's table downstairs. B). Tonight, while my brother Dan gasped for breath (he has strep and mono, and his throat was closing up), my Mom was expecting a call from Dan's doctor. Guess who's on the phone. Guess who doesn't bother picking up the call waiting. My Mom eventually got tired of waiting for the call back and called 911. The medics determined that he was just hyperventilating, and thank God for that. After the ambulances have left, Sydney immediately starts in on how horrible her life is right now, and how that's why she didn't pick up the other call. While Dan is struggling to calm down on the couch not two feet away from her. It's clear to me that this woman has absolutely no motive for being here other than freeloading off of our house and its facilities. I suspect that she never intends on paying rent or compensating us in any way. Tomorrow, after my Mom's had time to calm down off the latest scare, I will have this exact conversation with her. But seriously, I'm surprised I got this far, trembling with as much rage as I'm currently feeling. She is the luckiest woman alive that nothing worse befell my brother. For those of you who read this farâ€¦ hell, who'm I kidding . But seriously, thanks. Really needed to get that out.