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And The Horse You Rode In On
meegf
mikiekool
I don't know what makes people think they can just say shit to other people "matter-of-fact"-ly as if they don't already know. Granted, I'm incredibly upset myself and probably have a little bias, but that still doesn't change how a tone is perceived and meant. I can tell this is coming off a bit random, so let me fill in the blanks.

About a year and a half ago, my family bought a house, and I moved with them. There was a "half-finished" attic which was given as my room. The quotations on the half merely indicate that even though there was drywall on one side, it was covering 5o-year-old insulation. Anyway, the idea has always been that we would finish the other side, my stuff would be moved from one to the other, and then the next side would be done. Long story short, plans have changed drastically. Although the other side was yet to be finished, my side was commissioned to have the walls and insulation come down. No biggie, as long as my stuff is covered, right? Well, apparently not. My brother decided that he couldn't "word around" my desk, bed, and "designated pile of crap." This wouldn't normally be a problem if they could just move everything. (I only didn't move it myself because A: I can't move the bed by myself and B: I had to leave for work and trusted my brother and his friend to do what they had to do) Unfortunately, it turned out to be one. What's worse, this was only supposed to be a minor inconvenience. I left for work at 7am and was told they'd start at 9. I came back home at midnight (after a long day at work and a couple of hours of "I-don't-want-to-go-home-and-be-upset-at-what-I-find,-so-I'm-gonna-get-there-too-late-at-night-to-complain-to-anyone"-ing only to find that, at the rate they were going, this was going to be a week-long interference with my life. I can't have that happen. The mess that was in that attic. The sight of my "room" and the state of my belongings in dissaray was almost...insulting. I remember mumbling to myself angrily at how, even during a floor move, a rolled up poster suddenly becomes a crumple mess, signifies a total disrespect for me and my belongings just because they were "inconvenienced" by it's presence.

I'm starting to rant a little bit. Back on track. The reason I'm blogging now, is that I'm frustrated at some comments that floated around the living room this morning. I slept on the couch last night. I had no doubts that was going to end up happening, even before the mess (no way I'm gonna sleep in a closed area with freshly churned asbestos flying around). However, after already calling off of work so I could be able to lend a hand and expedite this process, I get little comments from my stepfather (for lack of a better term) who seems surprised that I'm sleeping on the couch. Apparently, Mexicans haven't ever heard of the dangers of old insulation. However, I digress. He moves on to comment that I should make sure I the attic gets finished today (knowing that I never get a day off, and not knowing I called off work, that's pretty presumptious, to start), then says "you can't stay on this couch forever." What?!? You think I fucking want this? Yeah, really. I want to turn down my very comfortable bed, in my personal room, with access to my clothes, my tv, and my video games, all bought on MY dime, to sleep on YOUR couch. Christ, he pisses me off with that. It's bad enough that I have to go out of my way and LOSE money on this, while contributing to work HE wants, but has never raised a hand to do. (literally, all previous work on that attic has been done by my hands or on my mother's dime until my brother started putting up new insulation last week, and at that, my mother STILL has to pay him) Honestly, I feel that as long as I'm going out of my way to get this done, losing out on anywhere between 75 and 200 dollars at work today, and I KNOW there's no way he's gonna even offer me money (he owes me two hundred already, by the way), then he shouldn't even talk to me about it. As far as I'm concerned, he doesn't get an opinion. Yeah, it's "his house" (I use the term loosely), but fuck that noise. Don't treat me like I'm some bum fucking kid who doesn't want to do this work and pays zero bills. Don't get me wrong. I know my life is cushy right now. I pay next to nothing compared to what I'd be paying if I lived on my own, but that's besides the point. Fact of the matter is, no matter how little I contribute, I AM contributing. What's more, is it's a needed contribution. If you can't afford to kick me out, you don't get to treat me like shit. End of story.

Oh, another note. I've been eager to make the call to my brother to go pick him up. Thinking that the sooner I get started on this, the better. While asking my mom for the number, he comments "you know, you can just start on it now and worry about getting him whenever he wakes up."

This, I can't believe. Not only have I just been woken up myself, but you're telling me that while I can't sleep in, I have to let my brother do so, AND you want me to get to work ASAP? Not to mention that we're talking about a half-hour of work, tops, before I'd have to leave to pick him up, and that it wouldn't put a dent in it. Not to mention that by the time I actually got up, got ready, tracked down a mask and gloves and got upstairs, I would have already gotten the call to leave. Not to mention that I've called off work, 12 hours in advance. You're SERIOUSLY gonna bitch about thirty minutes? This is why I'm upset. Why is it that everything has get done on this guy's schedule. You know, I bought my car on December 12th, and the lighter never worked. It's a small thing of crimping the wires, connecting the pieces, and going on with your day. I'd have done it myself if I knew how, and even tried, three times, and fucked it up, three times. But he can't be bothered to do that, can he?

I guess we all have to work on someone else's schedule, whether we like to, or not.I know it's not gonna solve anything standing around here bitching about it, but this was cathartic for me. I needed this stuff off my chest, and it is. Hopefully, I can make it through the day without killing somebody. 'Til next time, all I have to say, is fuck you, [insert title]

Thanks for reading,
Your Friendly Neighborhood Mikiekool

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