After a divorce, I thought the worst was over, but my new landlord, Mr. Thompson, proved otherwise. The only apartment I could afford was a rundown place, and Mr. Thompson had one rule: take care of his countless plants. His obsession became overwhelming, with plants in every corner.

Mr. Thompson’s calls were relentless, demanding updates on the plants: “Did you water the ficus today?” His intrusiveness reached new heights when I found my belongings out of place. I set up a camera and discovered he was entering my apartment daily, checking the plants, and rifling through my things.

Armed with a week’s worth of footage, I confronted him. “Stop coming into my apartment, or I’ll go to the police.” His face went pale, and he apologized, promising to stop. Just as things seemed to calm down, karma struck. One of his beloved plants caused him severe skin irritation. I found satisfaction in his discomfort but hoped he’d learned his lesson.

A few weeks later, I moved to a nicer apartment. The experience taught me resilience and the importance of standing up for myself. Karma, indeed, balances everything out