Home > Life or something like it > Turning a new page to the same chapter

Turning a new page to the same chapter


Entry 05/14/2012 10:02:05 AM – Mentat 644

Good gods, I have no idea where it is I want to start with this journal entry. A lot of shit needs to be covered with the psycho roommate. A few personal things as well. Yep, just a full head at the moment and the need to getting it all out in a semi-orderly fashion.

The good thing is that the weather’s finally warmed up sufficiently that I know spring is most certainly in the air. Of course, two weeks of a cold snap, and non-stop rain for two weeks also means that the trees and anything that pollinates is currently in bloom. The crabapple tree in front of the house was the first to bloom and go to seed.. Then the maple trees in the area. Now I think it’s Oak (or I think it’s supposed to be) and various grasses. Not too much of a bother for me, as the only things that I had serious allergies toward can only be found in the south. Still, it does add to the smells in the air at the moment. Then there’s all the restaurants here on the Hill (Federal Hill) of garlic, rosemary, thyme, mixed in with seafood smells like scallops and fish that mix and meld with the smells of cooking of Mexican flavor from the restaurants near to the house. Pity that I can’t smell the two bakeries in the area — other than in the morning when I’m walking/riding by them. At least the good thing is that I don’t find myself perpetually hungry from the smells, though it does give me some inspiration as to what it is I want to cook for lunch or dinner.

The roommate… Heh, is dead to me. Yes that’s right… And here’s why.

All right, as you recall from my last entry I’ve had it with his bullshit. From the stories he tells of how successful and rich and how he had money that he could throw about like water, to the way that he’s such a lady’s man… No he really isn’t. He has all the right charm for a first impression, but that rapidly falls apart within the first couple of hours of getting to know him. After a month, you’re realizing just how much of a train wreck he is. But I digress to continue…

Then there’s the positively slovenly way that he has kept the two rooms he squats in. Really, the cigarette ash, all the empty beer cans and liquor bottles over the floor in the living room. The trash can in that room — overflowing for weeks. Then there’s his bedroom which I can see in complete horror whenever he (or the cats) have knocked open the door. There’s about a 1 square foot of floor in that room where you can actually see the floor.. The rest is strewn with dirty clothes in various states of acquiring sentience… His bed which looks like something you’d expect a crack whore to use so she can get her smack… Seriously teenage boys keep their rooms cleaner than what I’ve seen of his.

Sometime before my last entry, I said “to hell with it” and once again wanted to see whether he had changed any about cleaning up after himself. I know, I know… I knew the answer long before I started this little “test”, but I was determined to see how far it would go before it would work him (and me). So twenty days pass and the house is looking positively slovenly. The floor has been modestly swept — and normally only because Wilma in her demented gluttony has kibble all over the floor and Mark was tired of walking all over it barefoot (I have sandals that I wear about the house). You could see where he dropped food on the floor (and didn’t clean it up with it sticking to the floor). You could see where his sneakers scuffed the floor from the door into the kitchen (from the back stairs) to the living room where he squats for long hours during consciousness.

The stovetop is a disaster. I won’t go into it and know when I’m through with my laundry this morning, I have to work on it.

The bathtub had soap scum all over it.

The toilet… As Rita Rudner used to say, “…I don’t want to talk about the toilet, but I’ll try. Let’s just say that when a man hits something, he’s happy…” Yeah, it was that bad. Didn’t wipe it when he was done and the ring in the bowl was darkening to black.

It was driving me nuts seeing how filthy it was, but I endured because 1. I stayed in my room with the door shut most of the time, and 2. I left the house as much as humanly possible.

So at Day 20, after he gets up early to shower, he makes an off-handed comment about the mold that was showing up in the bathroom.

It is, and I knew it. I hadn’t been cleaning it up like I normally do and I know that this is going to be a serious problem because the window in the bathroom has been calked shut (something I need to work on because summer is well on the way and the bathroom needs more ventilation).

I balked at him and commented that the window needs to be opened.

He made a comment about it being nailed shut but did nothing and shambled into the living room to wait for his ex-wife to come pick him up and go shopping on her welfare (I found this out afterward when I saw the groceries on the floor of the kitchen). I slacked for a lot longer and I remember making a comment to him sometime before he left that it was a slacking day as I didn’t want to do any chores. But knowing him, he didn’t listen as the television was set too loud.

The trash in the kitchen had been overflowing for a number of days already and I knew with the warmer weather if that wasn’t handled quickly, the place would be filled with fruit flies.

The icing on the cake was that he came back to the house some hours later and was sitting about his room (after the groceries were thrown haphazardly into the fridge and freezer). He sat about the living room doing fuck-all as he normally does. I decide that I had my fill of slacking and avoiding the dishes in the sink and decided that it was time to do them.

At the same time, Mark gets this wild hair across his ass and wants to get into the kitchen the same time I had. Apparently there was dog sick on the stairs into the house (otherwise what I would call the stoop) that his son had stepped into it, and that it was his responsibility to clean it. This was done some hours after the last trip back from the liquor store for him to pick up another six pack of American Swill (Miller).

I blew my top again. I looked at him in complete disgust pointing out that the garbage has been overflowing for days and that the house hasn’t been cleaned in weeks, but because his son stepped into the dog barf he felt the need to clean that up immediately?!

He doesn’t want me yelling at him (and acted like some sort of autistic about it) and he was determined to finish what he started, but a little more yelling about getting out of my face and go back to the living room, and do what he always does when faced with responsibility: do nothing but smoke, drink and watch television. He jittered around for about 2 minutes and then went into the living room and shut the door.

After that it had been a flurry of activity of him putting beer into a bag (leaving the fridge door open in the process), and running out of the house like an abused wife looking for a battered women’s shelter.

He didn’t return until well after midnight.

It’s been two days of quiet, but after this bullshit… Seriously, he’s dead to me.

I’m tired of his bullshit stories of how successful he used to be in his 20s and yet all he does now that he’s in his 40s is sit around and do nothing.

I’m tired of the fact that he doesn’t talk, but has to constantly one-up whenever someone tells a story. He does it to me incessantly, but I catch him doing the same with friends that occasionally stop by.

I’m tired of the slovenly way he keeps the house. (Seriously, I’ve seen white trash in the backwoods of Georgia keep a cleaner trailer).

I’m tired of the million and one excuses he gives whenever he’s faced with having to take responsibility for something.

I’m tired of him constantly moaning about his pains (yes, I know he has gout, but you know what… I have arthritis, but I don’t make it a constant source of excuses for why I don’t do things. I admit to simply being lazy and sometimes I’m even proud of it too, though when push comes to shove, I’m doing what needs to be done without the lip about it).

I’m tired of how he uses those pains in order to justify sitting in the living room, smoking, drinking, watching television (and when he had access to the internet, incessantly trolling status messages of friends and family).

I’m tired of having to scream and yell, and let loose the furies at him in order for things to sink in, because

I’m tired of not being heard when I talk civilly.

Now I just have to wait until he pays me back the rest of the monies he owes me for the utilities.

I think I’m going to insist that he take the first floor apartment that they’re currently painting and cleaning up. Yes, Hector’s old apartment. Most of the reason is because most of his shit is in the front hallway and can’t get up the stairs and it’ll allow him to be closer to it, as well as move the queen-sized box-spring into the house and out of the hallway blocking traffic. That and it would be a bit difficult for me to disassemble the desk and bed and get it downstairs. Not to mention extremely cumbersome.

[Last Edited: 05/15/2012 10:14:14 AM]

All right, so I was able to work out a majority of my frustration and anger by cleaning the house and removing all the mold in the bathroom. Sure, I smelled nothing but bleach for the remainder of the afternoon and this morning I’m sore from the scrubbing I had to do in the bathroom, but I made up with that problem by having a garlic infused calzone (Spinach & Feta Cheese). Feeling pretty good at the moment and the house doesn’t smell half as bad as it did before the Stepford Wives Cleaning Frenzy™.

As for the rest (now that I’ve had my morning coffee and I’m pretty much caught up on most of what I’ve needed to do before getting dressed)…

Because I’m now back to living in the city, I find that it’s no longer really possible to get on my bike, put on my earbuds and crank away to whatever tunes that I have going at the moment. People in this city are just plain crazy and I don’t trust them even on the roads that have bike paths/routes on them. And the nearest bike path that’s off the roads is in Cranston and not easy to get to even with a bus. So as a result, I’m doing what I used to do to certify in the US Army: 40 pushups (in 2 minutes), 40 sit-ups (in 2 minutes) and a 2 mile run in 20 minutes. I might not be anywhere close to that as I’ve only started 2 weeks ago, but I’m a lot better off than I thought I had been (20 pushups, 30 sit-ups, and 1 mile in 10 minutes).

Heh, one friend (Will) thinks I’m crazy, but then again he didn’t go through the military like I did. And I don’t mind it really… My shoulder with the bursitis isn’t acting up half as much as I thought it would. Heck, the pinched nerve in my shoulder isn’t giving me half as much problem since I’ve started exercising either. There are moments when it hits me, but even then it’s not so bad as it was when it first started…

Oh and yes, I did have it checked and the doctor confirmed that it is a pinched nerve. After several hours of going through the routine work up and physical, he was able to confirm (preliminarily), there are no major arteries in that section of my shoulder that could be cut off the flow of blood (in me the arteries are in the back of my shoulder and veins are in the front). He said that I needed to lose more weight and work on my blood pressure as well. Heh, he said the same thing all the other doctors have said to me since I was 20… That my blood pressure “…is a little high.” I told him that it’s sort of normal, and gave him the number of the last doctor so that the two of them can consult about what’s normal and what’s high with me (and my family). Still will be waiting for news on my sugar levels from the blood tests that he had performed as well. But he said that with the routine exercise that I’m doing the problem should go away, if not… Ugh, the alternative is not pretty.. It’s a sort of electroshock therapy that involves jolting the nerve out of the area it’s pinched. While I never personally went through that — friends and co-workers have and they tell me it’s not pretty not to mention not easy either.

Anyway, my doctor will be calling me in a couple of days to give me the results and to schedule a follow-up in a couple of weeks to see how I’m doing. Hopefully it’ll just be a phone consultation and not something that requires me to strip down to a hospital gown and go through more of the routine physical prodding. But at least I didn’t embarrass this doctor with some smarmy and snarky comment during the routine proctology examination. Heh… Then again this doctor wasn’t quite as handsome as my last.

As for me… I’m pretty good in spite of all the drama that’s been happening at the homestead. The neighbors are mostly quiet, although the one that moved in next door… *chuckling* I’ve been told that she’s a stripper at one of the bars in the area, but apparently she’s a naturalist as well. Yesterday when I was heading over to the pizzeria to pick up lunch, up the back stairway she comes with just a towel covering her front parts and barely that. As we haven’t been formally introduced, and not sure whether Mark has blabbed to her that I’m gay, I’m sure she assumed that I was enjoying the show. Pity there’s no interest from me anyway.

Then there’s the couple on the first floor apartment (that used to be the landlord’s apartment) that while they have a child and are mostly sedate, they don’t seem to mind fighting in the middle of the street. They were really going at it the other day with the husband trying to carry the wife back into the house to civilly talk about whatever the problem was, and the wife was off on a tear, swearing like a sailor and fighting to get out of his hold. This went on for about 10 minutes before the two of them ended back up in the house and (relative) quiet fell on the neighborhood. At least they’re quiet when they’re in the house (unlike me when the one that’s dead to me gets on my tits, but at least when I’m screaming it’s during normal daylight hours).

Heh, I swear this house attracts the truly odd-ball (me included).

Well, I think that’s going to be it for the time being. There’s one more thing I want to write about, but it’s not for the public eye at the moment. So off I go to finish an early lunch and them maybe I’ll take a walk downtown just for the heck of it. Until the next time.

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