I am miserable. I'm ready to get a hotel.
I have a guest who has stayed for a month now and I'm ready for him to get his own place. He has every excuse in the book. "That place was a dump," he said. "You don't want me to stay in a dump, do you?" Another time, he said, "This place was nice but I'm not sure I would like being that close to a family I don't know." And then there was, "That other place was a wash, a dead-end, not right at all."
My house guest has stayed too long to be a guest and since he doesn't pay rent, he's not a tenant either. He's not immediate family, so I can't fart in front of him. He's taking up a whole bathroom in our house so in the morning when I have to pee, I have to do the dance if someone's using the other bathroom at the time. The guys can just pee off the deck, which is gross, but I can't quite imagine how it would look to my house guest/tenant/new family member if he walked up the steps and caught me hanging off a post of the back deck exposing my bare ass so I could pee without peeing down my leg. Wouldn't be pretty. I'm tempted, but it wouldn't be pleasant.
I'm supposed to be a pleasant woman, but I'm not.
My long-term house guest came downstairs this afternoon on the pretext of helping with the groceries that I didn't need help with and I had just farted in the foyer. Mortifying. The whole thing has become so mortifying that I find excuses to leave the house and stay away for a long time. Tonight, after dinner but before I had a chance to sit down and eat, I left the house to 'go walk the dog.' I was angry. Dishes were piled up and this extenuated house guest had said he'd help with dishes. This actually means that he puts all my stuff in different places every time he unloads the dishwasher. If he loads the dishwasher, he never starts it, or if he does, stuff doesn't come clean. There's always two lids stuck together or a bowl full of water after he runs it. But you'd have to actually put a tab into the dishwasher and press some buttons for the dishwasher to run. That must be too hard because most of the time, my eternal house guest doesn't do it. So, tonight, I was making dinner and didn't have all the utensils and pots I needed because too many dishes were dirty. As I struggled to make this meal, I got madder and madder. On top of it all, I have to make a separate platter for this guy for every meal because of his food preferences. Three times, he has cooked for us, but each time has made food that I can't actually eat. And each time, he buys duplicates of ingredients I already have and it clogs the refrigerator. And who really needs a quart jar of pickle relish? So, I tried to work on this meal and not one of the three men in the living room got off an ass to come into the kitchen to help. And so, I served this meal and, before I could eat any of it, I left on the pretext of walking the dog. This actually means that I resisted the urge to toss the hot half-cooked meal onto the carpet in front of the guys and say that 'Dinner is served. Tonight we feature big-asses-sitting-on-a-couch.'
I'm still miserable. I have to face that filthy kitchen in the morning. I'll be damned if I clean it. I will be dammed, I'm sure.
Thank you for listening, jules
I have a guest who has stayed for a month now and I'm ready for him to get his own place. He has every excuse in the book. "That place was a dump," he said. "You don't want me to stay in a dump, do you?" Another time, he said, "This place was nice but I'm not sure I would like being that close to a family I don't know." And then there was, "That other place was a wash, a dead-end, not right at all."
My house guest has stayed too long to be a guest and since he doesn't pay rent, he's not a tenant either. He's not immediate family, so I can't fart in front of him. He's taking up a whole bathroom in our house so in the morning when I have to pee, I have to do the dance if someone's using the other bathroom at the time. The guys can just pee off the deck, which is gross, but I can't quite imagine how it would look to my house guest/tenant/new family member if he walked up the steps and caught me hanging off a post of the back deck exposing my bare ass so I could pee without peeing down my leg. Wouldn't be pretty. I'm tempted, but it wouldn't be pleasant.
I'm supposed to be a pleasant woman, but I'm not.
My long-term house guest came downstairs this afternoon on the pretext of helping with the groceries that I didn't need help with and I had just farted in the foyer. Mortifying. The whole thing has become so mortifying that I find excuses to leave the house and stay away for a long time. Tonight, after dinner but before I had a chance to sit down and eat, I left the house to 'go walk the dog.' I was angry. Dishes were piled up and this extenuated house guest had said he'd help with dishes. This actually means that he puts all my stuff in different places every time he unloads the dishwasher. If he loads the dishwasher, he never starts it, or if he does, stuff doesn't come clean. There's always two lids stuck together or a bowl full of water after he runs it. But you'd have to actually put a tab into the dishwasher and press some buttons for the dishwasher to run. That must be too hard because most of the time, my eternal house guest doesn't do it. So, tonight, I was making dinner and didn't have all the utensils and pots I needed because too many dishes were dirty. As I struggled to make this meal, I got madder and madder. On top of it all, I have to make a separate platter for this guy for every meal because of his food preferences. Three times, he has cooked for us, but each time has made food that I can't actually eat. And each time, he buys duplicates of ingredients I already have and it clogs the refrigerator. And who really needs a quart jar of pickle relish? So, I tried to work on this meal and not one of the three men in the living room got off an ass to come into the kitchen to help. And so, I served this meal and, before I could eat any of it, I left on the pretext of walking the dog. This actually means that I resisted the urge to toss the hot half-cooked meal onto the carpet in front of the guys and say that 'Dinner is served. Tonight we feature big-asses-sitting-on-a-couch.'
I'm still miserable. I have to face that filthy kitchen in the morning. I'll be damned if I clean it. I will be dammed, I'm sure.
Thank you for listening, jules
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