Thank God! The house guest from hell has left the building. Now my house is a home and it can get back to the way it was.
Things that I don't have to worry about anymore:
1. Sharing my bar soap. (Shower gel is one thing, but bar soap. "Come on people!)
2. No more having to force myself to talk.
3. No more finding "Little Debbie" snack cake wrappers under and around my computer.
4. Smells of "Musk" in the air.
5. Screaming at my dog to sit. (Maybe the dog felt the same way as I did.)
The list could go on and on, but I will spare everyone. Just know that I have learned my lesson and this was the FINAL time.
If you see this person, stay away!
Lately I've been digging the "homebody" in me. Just nestling up with a good TV, movie, and the dog and just kicking back as time flies by. I think that I have spent more time in the house this Summer than I have in my whole life. From catching up on up on Summer TV to doing laundry to just cooking recipes that I have found online. Occasionally making the rounds to ensure that I still have friends.
This weekend I think that I am going to do something different. I am going to make myself readily available and enjoy what's left of Summer.
When she opens the door, there stands Bob, the next-door neighbor.
Before she says a word, Bob says, "I'll give you $800 to drop that towel you have on."
After thinking for a moment, the woman drops her towel and stands naked in front of Bob. After a few seconds, Bob hands her $800 and leaves. Confused but excited about her good fortune, the woman wraps herself back up in the towel and goes back upstairs.
When she returns to the bathroom, her husband asks from the shower, "Who was that?"
"It was Bob the next-door neighbor," she replies.
"Great," the husband says, "Did he say anything about the $800 he owes me?"
Moral of the story: If you share critical information pertaining to credit and risk in time, you may be in a position to prevent avoidable exposure.
The door bell rang and awoke me from my mid-evening slumber. I smartly got up from my couch and brisked myself to the door. I was anticipating the arrival of a new pair shoes that I required from Ebay, but alas, it was not the postman at the door, but a co-worker, who I had given the okay to retreat to my apt for a couple of days. Normally I would turn away such visitors that solicit me with their problems, but today was a different day. I seem to have a soft spot for people having relationship trouble. Yes, today was the day that my "Unwanted-Guest" arrived.
I think it is a little unfair for me to call him an unwanted guest because I knew that he was coming. In fact, I agreed upon it. For some strange reason he still has to bear the title of "Unwanted-Guest". I guess when you know a person has no where is to go you have to let down your comfort level and let goodness be goodness.
Now that I have been self righteous, I can be a "DICK" and not feel guilty about it.
I don't want to type tons and tons of stuff so I will just list a couple of things that are driving me crazy about him.
1. He eats all my food without asking and drinks all my "good" water.
2. He picks his feet on my couch.
3. He uses my bedroom to lounge.
4. He talks extremely loud and while I am taking my afternoon. ( I get cranky when I don't get my nap in. It's the kid in me still.)
5. He smokes and leaves the butt outside the door. (Someone say, "Trash can, dude!")
6. He washes clothes close to midnight and dries his clothes during that last 30 minutes of sleep.
7. He closes the bathroom door behind him. (I know this sounds crazy, but last time I checked I am not a 2 year old who doesn't know that the toilet is where mommy and daddy do their business.)
8. He talks during my favorite TV shows. (At 10 o'clock at night I don't have the patience or will to break down Big Brother 8.)
9. He uses the bathroom constantly throughout the night. ( I know you are thinking, "Why is this a big deal?" and my reply would be, "I am a light sleeper...nough said!"
10. 1- 9 is plenty and I don't want to give this subject that much more time.
I find myself being the barrier of relationship problems for others and I think that I have had enough. The old has gotten even older. I think this could be a big reason why I am single. How the hell can you start something with someone, when you are always cleaning up and fixing everyone else's problems.
4 out of 10 times I am to blame, but the other 6 belongs to the one and only "Duck". "Duck" is an elusive idiot who has no sense of time or compassion for the next person's quality of life. So I figure he is not going to change, so I have to figure something to redefine the way I transition from day-to-day task.
If it's your job, then polish up your resume, do some career soul-searching and figure out what it is you want to do with your life. Then get a job doing what you love, and you'll have a better chance of showing up on time.
I don't care if I running late and the phone rings or the dog poops on the floor, I will keep walking out the door. Phone calls can be returned; floors can be cleaned. But once my time has come and gone I can't retrieve it back.
The cop asks her for her license and registration. She says, "License, what's that?"
He replies, "It's what they ask for when you buy liquor."
She says, "Oh, I get it," and hands him her license.
Then she asks what a registration is. He says, "It's probably in your glove box. Just open it and give me the papers inside." She does, so he returns to his car.
He calls the police dispatcher and says, "I think I just pulled over the dumbest blonde ever! She didn't even know what a license was."
The dispatcher says, "I know who she is. She's driving a new BMW, with pink mirrors."
The cop says, "Yeah, how'd you know?"
The dispatcher says, "Never mind that, just go up to her car and drop your pants."
The cop says, "No freakin' way!"
The dispatcher says, "Just trust me, all the cops in town have done it."
So the cop agrees and reluctantly walks up to her car. He looks around and then drops his pants. The blonde woman says, "Another breathalyser test? No problem, I pass these all the time."
"Get creative Morris. Break up the monotony. Why don't you try 'playing doctor' for an hour? That's what I do," said Irving.
"Sounds great," Morris replied, "but how do you make it last for an hour?"
"That's easy... just keep her in the waiting room for 59 minutes!"