The inspector came when my ten days were up and since he saw signs of progress being made, gave me an extension.
According to him, the information I received from the police about the reasons why the place was condemned was inaccurate. He saw a small amount of clean kitty litter on the floor, and a small amount of newspapers on the bed, not the months and months of knee-high junk that the cop was ranting at me about.
The inspector's version was that he was primarily concerned about the things in the walkway that would impede my exit in case of fire: boxes and bags of groceries in the main hallway (some of which were placed there by the person who called the cops, because she didn't want to carry them all the way to the kitchen), piles of laundry near the back door (because she had blocked my access to the closet and dresser with boxes that I couldn't move), and in the bedroom hallway, a box with a shelf which her husband had agreed to assemble, and never did. I didn't feel well enough to assemble it, or to carry it to the basement, so I pushed it toward the guest bedroom to get it out of the dining room. Boxes that she and other cleaners had stacked in the guest room blocked getting out the windows in case of fire; I had asked that the boxes be moved and they never were. I've been cleaning a lot of things that I had specifically asked her to deal with last summer when she had promised to thoroughly clean the house in exchange for free room and board. Sooooo, her claims that she's completely innocent, had nothing to do with the current condition of the house are wrong -- she contributed substantially to the reasons why the inspector had issues with the house.
At any rate, the inspector noted a few new items on his last visit: the crockpot, which hadn't fit in the last load of dishes I did before I was evicted, took up a large area of the kitchen countertop. Countertops, by law, must be cleared off so they are usable for food preparation.
I keep a number of items on the counters, by doctor's orders, so that I don't have to reach above shoulder level to put them in and out of the cupboard. He didn't care about doctor's orders: rules are rules, and those things have to go back into the cupboards where the law says they belong. Similarly, I keep the canned goods on the kitchen floor so I don't have to reach up into the cupboards for them. That was also unacceptable to the inspector.
Putting everything away to appease him so that I can pass inspection to move back into the house has resulted in repeated dislocations of my bad shoulder and a lecture from the doctor that "you know better". I do, but the inspector doesn't, and at this point, I need to play by his rules.
In trying to get the house clean, without help from the maid who said she wanted the job and then didn't show up, I have totally exhausted myself and had to spend half of this week in bed instead of making progress with the cleaning.
A Real Friend would've been over here cleaning with me, and worrying about me making myself sick enough to land in the hospital with the overexertion; instead, I'm supposed to accept "oops, my bad" as enough to make things right between us and not expect any help or concern about the turmoil she created.
Once again, it becomes apparent that I have been screwed by someone I extended generosity to. Some thanks for 2 1/2 months of free room and board! And this time from someone who prides herself on being a good Christian and claims to have love for me. Funny, how that "love" ends as soon as she's asked to reciprocate the huge favor I did her last year.