A Bitching Article

As I start to type this post, I realize the possible misunderstanding that could arise from the title.  "A Bitching Article" or perhaps "A Bitchin' Article" could mean something that is so good, only expletives can adequately describe it.  Or it can mean "an article in which someone bitches."  Unfortunately, given my currrent state of existence, that's the one here.

I've been living with Mooch for about three months now and it's finally hit the breaking point.  He is gone by tomorrow night, thank god.  So, in a way, problems are solved (except financial ones, of course), but in a way they aren't.  The real problem is that it seems as though no one is reliable.  No one is capable of taking care of themselves. 

I will give you some back story to justify my mean attitude.

Three months ago, Mooch broke up with his girlfriend.  Devistated and desperate, whithout anywhere to go, Roommate, Ex, and I decided to let him sleep on our couch when he wasn't sleeping in his car.  Shortly thereafter, he lost his job due to failing to set his alarm clock and having accrued a goodly amount of tardy arrivals.  Note, this was his fault.  We continued to let him stay here, without pay, and even fed him.  Things got better for him within a week or so; he got two jobs and was feeling better about his girlfriend.  Despite this upturn in his life, he did not offer to buy food nor pay rent.

After a month, when Ex moved out, Mooch got his own room and started being responsable for a share of the bills.  Note I said "being responsable" not "paying."  That is part of where the current problem lies.  The two jobs gave him substantial funds with which to pay his first month's dues, but now that January is coming to a close, he is no longer capable.

His two jobs were at Papa John's (not very good; minimum wage and few hours) and a seasonal gig at UPS (great hours and pay, but again, only seasonal).  He knew it wouldn't last, yet he did nothing to ensure his ability to pay his share once the time had come.  He knew this was coming, but his laziness and selfishness prevented him from doing anything to stop this.  Should you find Mooch on the street and ask him about this, he would tell you that Roommate and I were well aware of the situation.  But the sitiation he is refering to, in fact, is that he was planning on leaving mid-Feburary.  Which has nothing to do with one's abilities to pay January's rent. 

Not only does he lack money due to the loss of his good job, but he is also constantly here.  I was out of town for Christmas and New Years, and since I have been back, I have only been in the apartment without him for 5 hours.  He is constantly present and makes his presence known.  And when Roommate and I choose not to keep his company, he sulks.  Even going so far as to cry loudly on the balcony outside of our room.  He is pathetic and will never do anything for himself.

At this point, all he has done to suppliment his income is ask me and Roommate to try to sell his Magic cards.  Here we are approaching a key part of the problem.  See, he is not just inept because that's how he is--there is more to it.  He is stunted.  He is a tall child.  Without help, he cannot manage to feed himself, to provide himself shelter, to get to work on time, to do anything by himself, or to even wipe his own ass.  I cannot tell you how many times he has stolen toilet paper from me for I have lost count. 

I feel like an idiot for putting up with it for so long, and even now he is doing laundry with water and soap he will not pay for.  He only started because I stepped out to go to the apartment office.  Tonight is his last night here and I will relish the moment of relief when I can be alone before the necessity of finding another roommate becomes pressing enough to ruin my contentment. 

This is what I get for trusing other people to be able to take care of themselves. 

An Awkward Spot

That last post was kind of old, actually pretty old.  It was from this summer when I kind of feel like I had a sort of breakdown.  Thinking about it now, I've been leading myself up to it, so it wasn't actually a very big surprise.

I didn't feel like I could read people anymore because I'd slowly but surely been isolating myself from everyone.  All conversations became superficial and I stopped being able to find anything to talk to anyone about.  I felt like I could manage my feelings on my own and didn't (feel the need to / want to / trust anyone enough to) talk about anything that was really on my mind.  I think a lot of people feel that way, though.  (Saying things like that helps me belittle the idea of feelings, which makes it easier to remain a closed shell.)

I had a boyfriend for several years.  And then I broke up with him.  It wasn't as sudden as my syntax implies, though.  I'd been thinking about it for a year or two but felt unable to do anything about it.  I actually tried, once, to break it off.  But we weren't able to move and so I was stuck living with him.  He asked me to get back together and I said yes for convenience.  My plan was to get him a new roommate and then leave the situation, but things didn't work out. 

I ended up breaking up with him then later slept with a mutual friend, our roommate.  Understandibly, that caused a whole mess of drama. 

After the break-up, my ex decided to confess that he had been suicidal and depressed for months and that our roommate and I were the best people to handle the situation, to make him feel better, and banish those terrible thoughts from his head.  We did what we thought would help, but we were ignorant of the right solutions, being mere people.  It was a stressful and unpleasant situation for everybody, and lead to lots of isolation for everyone.  I know that I felt like I couldn't tell anyone about it, without incurring worry and meddlesome other people who were equally ill-equipped to deal with the situation.  So I tried to deal with it.  Roommate and I found comfort in each other.  Many nights, Ex would fall asleep on the couch early and Rommate and I would talk.  Often times late into the night. 

One of these nights, we happened upon a bottle of whisky and ended up fucking on the balcony.

That did not sit well with Ex.

(This post has become something entirely different than what I had imagined.)

During a horrible night, and after much coaxing, Ex broke Roommate's jaw. 

What followed was a combination of guilt, anger, confusion, and sexual frustration.  I had been attracted to Roommate for a while due to his personality and life-experience, but had never let on or done anything about it until that night.  And based on everything I knew about him, I wasn't expecting anything more than sex from him, but much more has evolved since then.  Despite that, we still cling to the idea of being in an open relationship.  (Funnily enough, I'm the only one who has actively done anything to uphold this title.)  I'm starting to skip parts of history to get to what's really on my mind. 

We announced to each other our desire to be in a relationship on Halloween and began to end some of the awkwardness in dealing with encroaching feelings.  But like I said, it's an open relationship.  This is my first time doing anything like this and I don't know all the rules, but I have started to notice some issues.  None of the other people I've gotten involved with want to leave it at just sex.  People have a habit of falling for me.  And I don't know how to deal with it.

So right now I'm in a relationship that was never supposed to be, but which has turned out to be quite nice.  I actually really enjoy it.  There's no such thing as perfect, but most of the time I'm having fun.  But on the other hand there is a guy from work who seems to want to be there for me in all the ways I doubt about Roommate--it's hard to believe in the emotional side of a sex-based relationship, despite when he tries to comfort me. 

I'm being rushed to leave and end my rant.  Goodnight

Conflict of Interest

So the thing is, this isn't my only outlet.

For about the past semester I've been carrying around one of those green composition books you can get from any drugstore or supermarket.  I've been splitting what I write between here and there.  And honestly, most of it's going there.  That's partially due to convenience, partially due to an extreme shyness and the resulting hesitation to be open about anything.

But here's something to make up for it.

I've been back in Louisiana for only about a week now, but
But I don't know.
I feel weird being here.  It's kind of like when I'm back where I normally live and I'm the only one with a day off.  A lot of my day to day existence circulates around interactions with other people, and I'm used to fitting alone time into small, spread out spaces.  So when everything comes in chunks, I end up with hours of the day passing while I sit there feeling like I should be doing something else.

Part of me wants to stay because I don't want to feel that way.  I feel guilty about a feeling, so I try to change why I had it in the first place.  It's not just that though.  It's not too hard to see how different things are around here, and sometimes it's pretty nice just to experience something out of the usual.  There's also people around here I like to see and all that.

And even before I came here, I started getting uneasy about social situations.  I felt like I couldn't read people anymore and didn't know how to respond to anything.  That made all sorts of interactions incredibly difficult.

I'm kind of rambling.  Thinking about this earlier, I'd even come up with a dramatic finish, but it doesn't seem like it will really fit now.