I’m home early. You see, because of my hellishly stressful & verbally abusive job, my weekends need to be for fun and relaxation or I’m going to become both physically and mentally ill. (Maybe that sounds ridiculous, but I suspect that if you were screamed at several times a day, every day, by a multitude of people, for things that have absolutely nothing to do with you in any way, shape or form, you’d feel this way too after five straight years of it!)
So, anyway, on the weekends I like to spend time with my Boyfriend to unwind. You know, we snuggle on the couch and watch movies, go shopping together, make dinner together, have sex. Well, rather, we SHOULD be doing those things. However, since his ex (his daughter’s babymama) moved in yet AGAIN because she got fired yet AGAIN, we’re not doing much of any of them. (BTW, This is the THIRD time this has happened! I found the last time I wrote about this loser: http://tousledelegance.livejournal.com/262130.html)
I don’t think many women could or would put up with this type of situation.
L has to go outside to smoke every 30 minutes [or more] and walks across the tv, interrupting our view. (I don’t know how someone unemployed spends so much on cigarettes, but that’s not the point. She could go out another door, but noooo.) And, of course, on her way back, she reeking of smoke, has to stop and talk to/pet the cats, causing us to miss dialogue every time. She’s in and out the door to smoke at all hours and each time the door opens or closes it shakes the entire house. We can’t sleep like that, constantly being woken up by it. I used to like to sit in the rocking chair on the porch for a little solitude, but every fucking time I do, she comes out. No solitude for me! Hell, every time I want to go to the bathroom there, brush my teeth or take a shower, someone is in it or needs to come in; I can’t even get any alone time in there!
L’s supposed to be “earning her keep” by making dinner and doing the dishes. That would be a great arrangement except for the fact that nothing T has in the house or buys is good enough for her. Miss Unemployed, irresponsible, lazy, free-loader is in no position to be picky and choosy yet, she won’t use canned goods, frozen goods, anything that isn’t “her” brand or make anything that doesn’t have meat in it (because she says she needs protein in her food). Sounds like she’s all health-conscious, right? Yet, she puts a shit-ton of butter, sugar and cream in everything! She loves to tell T what he is doing wrong and how SHE does it or what SHE uses.
After meals she cooks, I usually offer to do the dishes and she turns me down saying she has her own system. Ok. Maybe. I guess that system is leaving them sitting through several more meals until there’s no more clean silverware left to use and then complaining about how much work there is to do! Yeah, a half hour of dish washing is so much more work than those of us putting in 40 hour weeks at the office, eh?
As if L weren’t bad enough to have to deal with, ever since her mother has moved in, the girl (C) has been nothing but a little bitch to everyone except her Mom. Anything that comes out of C’s mouth is some snotty, know-it-all retort. (Actually, she sounds just like her mother! LOL!)
The bus stops right outside the house, yet C refuses to take it and expects him to drop whatever he is doing/totally rearrange his plans and take her somewhere immediately or worse, go get something for her right now, while she’s busy texting or playing on the internet and just _has_ to stay there to do that. (And he DOES, which sets the example that throwing a fit gets you your way!) He asks her to do her chores and she is “busy” “petting the cat” or watching a movie, doing her nails, has plans etc etc. She says she’ll “do it later.” He gets furious because, despite having reminded her several times, she claims she “forgot” and of course, by that time it is too late for her to do them because she has school the next day, so she gets out of it completely. Nice strategy! If C doesn’t get her way, she either turns it into a shouting match or cries. He ends up doing her chores himself or doing whatever it is she wants. (Again, great example! I guess I’m getting old, because in my days, we would have at the very least had privileges taken away for stuff like she pulls.)
Today, I had enough and so I decided to do something about it.
T, myself and the girl are doing dishes while L is in church (*snort*). Any idiot knows it doesn’t take 3 people to do dishes! But, ok, I know he’s set it up that way purposely. Then, C will actually do it and do it now because she has someone helping her (*ahem* lazy, spoiled) and it’s kind of “all in this together” scenario. He’s washing. She’s rinsing. I’m… putting the dishes in the drainer…? She put on my gloves. (Ok, fine, she can use them, I guess. Wish she’d asked though!) Then, I have to go upstairs to her room to collect the dishes she and her friends used and didn’t bother to bring down because she’s busy rinsing. Fine. Whatever. lazy… sense of entitlement… Ok.
The water coming out of the tap is so hot that it is actually steaming and the steam is hovering over that side of the sink. It is really heating up the dishes too! C can’t feel it because, obviously, she is wearing my gloves. I, however, have burned my hand twice now on the hot metal pots and pans she’s given me. I go over and add a little bit of cold water to the stream coming from the faucet. She make some sort of huffing noise at me. I say, “sorry, the dishes were so steaming hot that they were burning my hands.” (There were no towels left for me to use to protect my hands and C had on the only pair of gloves.) Then she makes it a point to walk around me to put the next dish in the rack herself, cutting me out of the “assembly line.” I figure she was just hurrying to get done and forgot to hand it to me in her rush to get it over with. I hold out my hands for the next one, indicating I’m still here and ready and willing to help. Then, she does it again. I can tell by her body language that this is deliberate and kinda malicious, really. I say, “well, I guess I’m done here” and I go upstairs. When I get to the top, I hear her telling T that I am “such a child” blah, blah, blah. That pisses me off! I shout down, “for not wanting to burn my fucking hand?” I go into the bedroom, marveling at the ridiculousness of being called a child for turning the cold water on a 1/4 to prevent myself from being scalded. She stomps upstairs after they are done and slams her door.
Well, that’s the last straw for me. I pack my backpack and tell T I’m going home because I’m tired of being treated like this when I am working so hard to be nice to everyone in a bad situation. He wouldn’t speak up for me, he just stood there and let that little brat act like this, just like he does all the time. Now it is 100 times worse with L living there too!
You know, I don’t ask for much and, consequently, that’s what I get- not much… except aggravation. It isn’t worth it. He can come over and see me at my apartment if he wants to spend some time together. Obviously, that is the only way we’re ever going to have any enjoyment until he can man up and stop letting everyone run roughshod over him (and his guest!) in his own home.
