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TIFU by trusting a "pro" to renovate my kitchen and now I'm crashing on a friend's couch

Just this morning, I had the joy of supervising my so-called professional contractor as he packed up his mess from what was supposed to be my dream kitchen.
After my breakup last year, I snagged this little place thinking, "Hey, a bit of DIY and we're golden." Found this contractor through a buddy, who swore this guy was the second coming of Bob Vila. Spoiler: he wasn't.
Dude shows up late, citing his bad back or whatever, then suddenly my kitchen needs more work than I thought. "Fire hazards" and "code violations" he says. I'm no expert, so I give him the green light. Projects ballooning, deadlines whooshing by, and my wallet's getting lighter by the minute.
Made me a promise that I would be flipping pancakes in no time, especially since my lease on a rental property was about to expire. Time travel to "pancake day," when my kitchen resembles a battlefield. "Just one more week," he remarks. heard that song nonstop for three months.
The final straw came this morning. Obtaining an expert to review his work and the conclusion? It's a catastrophe. Mr. Fix-it goes all out when I confront him, saying I owe him for making my kitchen look like something out of a horror movie about home renovations.
Police got involved when he wouldn't hand over my keys or stop treating my half-demolished kitchen like his personal storage unit. Watching him leave with my house keys (and a few of my belongings, cheeky sod) was the only highlight.
My lease expires in three days, therefore I'm looking at a three-month wait for a new team to clean this mess. The home is unlivable, with broken countertops and a pile of cabinets for my kitchen, no plumbing, and wiring hanging out like spaghetti.
And the final flourish? My former partner is urging me to take care of my own mess, I have nowhere to work from home, and I could have to spend my birthday this weekend without a place to stay with my kids.
TLDR; Hired a contractor to make my kitchen awesome. Ended up with a gutted mess, a lighter wallet, and nowhere to live right as I hit another year older.

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