We moved into this great house in a small town last May. Our landlord is a little socially awkward and has never rented before, but we figured we'd be here pretty short term, the price was right, and we were dying to get out of our apartment. Well, he was supposed to be moving to Seattle, which is why he was renting his house out.
First, he wasn't ready to be out by the day he had promised us the house. So we just didn't pay him for the 3 days or so that he still had his crap in the house. Then, he didn't move when he said he would. he was all out of the house, but still around. We had one stall of the garage promised to us in the lease, and still was storing stuff in the other stall. Which wasn't a big deal, if he was gone. As it was, he was over here almost every day, puttering around in the garage and getting stuff. It was irksome. Finally (2 months later) he was gone. He was only gone for about 6 weeks when we got a call saying he was moving back into town for a few months and staying with friends.
Fastforward a couple weeks to him being back. He loaded up a bunch of crap in the garage again. Kyle barely has room to get in and out of his car. He's here like every freaking day, doing stuff to the outside of the house (one day, I got out of the shower and walked into our bedroom in a towel only to realize he was painting the outside of our bedroom window. I wasn't pleased), shooting his bow into a wood pallet in our backyard, changing his oil in the driveway. Today, he asked Kyle to keep his (brand new) car in the driveway overnight because he's building a cabinet in the garage. He's out there right now, sawing away. He interrupted my yoga twice to come fix fuses he blew out in the garage.
I'm livid. I'm trying to compose myself enough to go out and have a little boundaries and DUDE THIS OUR SPACE THAT'S WHY WE'RE PAYING YOU EVERY FUCKING MONTH chat with him.

Everything the light touches is my kingdom.