Cleaning house

Friday, April 21, 2006


**WARNING:  This post contains scenes of violence and foul language.  This post may not be suitable for all readers.  Your discretion is advised. **
Two gym days in a row.  I feel great.
My food hasn't been as good as it could have been, but it hasn't been terrible either.  So I'm overall content. 
Except that my body has decided it hates me.  I've grown acidic all of a sudden.  I have a huge canker sore under my tongue.  I've broken out, ALL OVER.  My chest, my face, my's bizarre.  I don't know what's going on.  I'm not even stressed out about anything.  It's bizarre.  Anyw ay...this too shall pass, I'm sure.
I have tomorrow off, and I'm really looking forward to it.  I have a haircut scheduled for lunch time, and other than getting some bloodwork done (finally!) and a gym-date with Heidi, I have no plans.  It's supposed to be much nicer than it has been the last few days.  Today was downright miserable.  Yesterday?  It freaking SNOWED.  Stupid weather.
It's the 20th of the month, and I still have no rent.  Last night he came home ranting about almost quitting.  I couldn't imagine living my life like he does.  I mean, other people have issues with how my financial stability isn't as 'stable' as it could be.  But his life?  Yikes.  It's enough to drive me to drink.  Except that I'm (temporarily) on the wagon.  I've been spending too much money the last few weekends, so I'm going to be cutting back on the expenses the next few days as well.  That way?  I can feel safer in case I have to kick his ass to the curb.
I've been blogstalking lately, and I found a whole bunch of new blogs that I love.  I've also been reading so much that I've had very little to talk about.  Lots, but little.  You know? 
Oh lookie...the roomie just got home.  And he appears to be drunk.  He'd better be drunk and bringing me my fucking rent $$.  He just turned on the TV in his room incredibly loud.   I'm not keen on this.  Unless it helps him to count better.  Because he'd best be counting out the cash.  Asstard.
Patt Quinn got fired today.  This makes me sad.  While I've never beeen a fan of the Toronto Maple Leafs, I have always been a fan of Pat Quinn.  I'm hoping that he finds himself a new coaching job some time soon.  Preferably for a team I can stand to watch. 
Fucker.  My roomie just gave me my rent.  And told me a slightly different story than he did last night.  Last night, he said that he 'threatened to quit' if they didn't smarten up.  Tonight?  Tonight he tells me that he quit last night.  And that today?  He only went in at 2:00 to talk to the owners because they begged him not to leave.  He managed to keep his job, and apparently got himself an extra buck an hour raise.  We shall see.
Anyway...I think this means that the fucker and I have to have a very serious conversation tomorrow, or at least this weekend, about his living arrangements and his continued residence in my apartment.  He's paid until the end of the month.  Then we'll see.  Fuckwad.
Remind me next time I decide to be nice to almost strangers that it backfires?  Remind me that I really don't ENJOY being a good person, and I don't want to be fucked by someone who I certainly don't want to kiss me first.  I hate that some asswipe can cause me to feel bad about trusting people.  So remind me.  Save us all this bilious ranting.  Fucker.'s your post in real time.  Like 24, you've experienced my evening right along with me.  Feel free to come up with lovely scenarios as to how I should deal with the fuckwad.  Ask yourself this question...."What would Jack Bauer do?"


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