diary of a manic obsessive.


a crazy damn week...

to say that things have been crazy would be putting it HELLA lightly...

just for my sanity, or what's left of it, left's start with Halloween & progress quickly, so i don't dwell...

Oct. 31st:
I woke up, hung out in the bedroom with Bazinga for a little while, watching TV, took a shower & was getting ready to paint him up like a zombie for work. He went into the shower & i went into the kitchen to find that it had FLOODED, yes FLOODED like a motherfucker. Of course, we didn't even end up having time to paint his face like a Zomb [which ended up being a good thing, bc his dumb job canceled the "dress up for work on h.ween" thing, so he woulda looked like a damn fool], but he didn't even have any time to help me deal with the catastrophe. Roomie got out of HER bathroom, saw me standing in a puddle of murky DISGUSTING backed up sink water, complete with food bits, asked me what happened, &, when i said "the fucking sink overflowed", promptly said "oh... damn." & walked into her room, closing the door behind her...
this is when Spanky goes from frantic & annoyed to MEAN RED.
I asked roomie to PLEASE clean the front deck because she'd had people over the last few days & it was a wreck & i didn't want trick or treaters to see that. she said she would, but, of course, she didn't do anything.

Nov. 1st:
Maintenance guy comes again [he'd come an HOUR after i'd called "emergency" maintenance the day before & said that they'd have to come back the next day to deal with the [basically] sewage that had covered our kitchen & seeped through the doorway & under the dining room rug]. 
he snakes the drain.
I ask Roomie to PLEASE help me clean up the insanly grossified kitchen [seeing as we ALL live here & i can't, for the life of me, understand why it's MY job, & my job only, to clean it]. She, of course, does not...

Nov. 2nd:
Bazinga goes to work early, I wake up & tool around on the compy for a little bit before bothering to wake up Roomie to ask her, once again, to help me with our nasti-rific kitch. She wakes up & wonders, hung over, into the living room, sniffling, asking me if anyone "came into the house last night" while she wasn't home. Uh... no... why? - Well, because, all of her rent money [due Nov 3rd], which she keeps in a highly secure glass pickle jar in her room has been stolen. - awesome.
She has a fit, asks to borrow my phone to make "A call" [aka about 50 calls, to non mobile-to-mobile number which i'll prob get charged for]. 
She's CLEARLY too distraught to help me with the mess in the kitchen [&, honestly, how DARE i even THINK she'd be able to help me scrub the floor], so i have to do it. 
Here i go, on my hands & knees with nothing but paper towels & [thank god] rubber gloves - because the ONE household item we asked Roomie to buy was a goddamn swiffer/mop which she hasn't bought in the 4 months we've lived here [thanks mommy for sending us one after this insanity!] - scrubbing what, basically looks like dried VOM from every surface, crevice, & corner of our kitchen, while waiting for the maintenance guy to come back.
They say they need to put in an industrial fan [SUPER LOUD] for the next day or so to dry up the carpet.
Are you keeping up? Kitchen: flooded, Rent $: stolen, Mess: still there, Roomie: worthless.
k, just checking

Nov. 3rd:
We can't make rent, obvi, so Bazinga & Roomie have to go tell the Leasing Office that we are a bunch of assholes who can't be trusted to not have half the rent jacked from our apartment. They give us until the 10th.
Roomie states that she will work "every possible shift" to make up the cash.
My unemployment check still hasn't come.
I still haven't found a job.

Nov 7th:
I win for the 2nd [ever] time [this season] in Fantasy Football.

Nov 8th:
Roomie tells us she made "pocket change" at work & can't give us anything for rent that night. We're still short, but my unemp check comes. She, somehow, seems to have enough dough to go to the WEED clinic, however & get "too stoned to go to work". She invites friends over.
I make chicken noodle soup.

Nov. 9th:
Roomie has people over... still. They drink almost all of our Soda, make a huge mess in the JSUT cleaned living room [our apartment complex had the rugs cleaned bc of the spill on the carpet. the living room was spotless.] I go to the bank to deposit my unemp check & make sure that, worst case, i'll be able to cover the rest of hers, if need be.
I come home, Roomie is stradeling a guy i've never met, on the deck, & tells me that "there was an accident". One of her friends had attempted to close the blinds in the kitchen [& must have pulled the chord & LET FUCKING GO] & smashed my 3 little glass martini/shot glasses that my friend Steff gave me for my 21st bday. 
I want to cry.
I take EVERYTHING of mine from the kitchen & living room & put it in my room or in boxes & put them away. 
I realize that there's no way she's going to make enough money that night to cover her ass with rent [& the $50 late fee]. I ask her to talk about "money". I flip out at her, telling her that she can't have this place be a FUCKING hotel [ or "shelter" since we don't see any money from them - "Moocher Shelter"]. She says "don't trip". I'm absolutely trip'n & i wanna smack her for telling me not to. I have another glass of Pinot Grigio.
Roomie & her bffer L go to work. Her guy friends leave.
We have leftover Chicken Noodle soup.
Roomie & L come back saying that "there were too many girls working tonight. we were turned away. L's mom is loaning me the cash. don't trip."- I say "ok", but i mean "i'll kill you".

Nov. 10th:
Bazinga & I go to the bank [after he's back from the dentist where he finds out he has 3 cavities & needs over a thousand dollars - without medi ins - in dental work, asap]. We combine funds to get a money order for the TOTAL rent + late fee due (almost double my share, covering Roomies loss).
We come home. Roomie has her friends STILL here [yes, as in, they haven't left.. in days].
A few hours later, there is a commotion in Roomies bedroom. She's fighting with L. It's getting REALLY loud. ::SMACK:: - someone hit someone. L is screaming & eventually runs out of the apartment, demanding that the two boys go in & "get her shit" [which, there's a lot of since she's been basically living here for days]. Obvi, since L's mom was "loaning" Roomie the money for rent, she's not going to have it. Further more, since the blowout, Roomie doesn't "think it's a good idea" to go to work, since L works there, too. L "needs time to cool off".
Roomie asks if we can cover her. We [purposely] didn't tell her that we already did pay it. We wanted her to sweat it out a bit.

I hate when i do this, i write a post, don't get to finish it, then a few days go by & i'm not even in the same headspace that i was when i wrote the still unpublished post.
I'm going to post this (obvi, since you're reading it) anyway.

I'll add:
- Roomie has since been "turning over a new leaf". She's rarely getting stoned, starting to work at a new club, not having people (accept for her one friend who is drama free) over, helping around the house & being very open about her making changes.
- I dropped a soda can tab into the drain with the disposal, reached in to get it & grabbed a handful of broken glass, slicing my fingers. I was NOT happy. Not wanting to have the maintenance guys come back for a 6th time, or whatever, in a week or two for the kitchen sink, i carefully put on a rubber glove today & fished the remaining shards out. I hope i got them all.
- I'm reading a book called "Love Sick" - it's kinda confusing me...

I'll tell you one thing, if Bazinga doesn't get his butt off the couch & go to the grocery store to buy food for dinner, i'm gunna crack!

on the plus side, i've been really enjoying cooking yum dinners & occasionally baking.  I'll post some recipes sometime soon.

Luvs it*

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