Back when I was single - I had a shitload of cash, power, influence. I also had two houses, this one and my beautiful single-man bungalow down near the city. If the aforementioned wife did elect to kill my buzz, then in that event I could go back to my former home, with my dog and my pillow and my toothbrush. It was always a relief. That door has been closed. I have been bled dry. I miss my former residence even though it was only 11 feet away from my next door neighbours Herb and Connie. They weren't the problem, I was. I turned that joint from a two bedroom bungalow into a groovy bachelor pad with a master suite by chopping out a bearing wall with a sawzall and a bottle of cheap vodka. Fortunately I sold that place and the statute of limitations for any lawsuits has passed.