Overdue

I write for me, so that I can improve my life. And for Sam.

Work has not been going so well for me lately. Stress. Depression. Irritation. Busy schedule. Anger. All of it is keeping me from working like I should each day. Have not really worked since last Wednesday, and that was the only day that week I got some great progress made. So, after hearing what I heard today, the last straw was flung down on the ground and I started to pack my things. No matter how much I love my roommate (we've been friends since she was eight, so fourteen years) I'm over feeling like I owe her anything. I've spent my life playing doormat to people. Eventually there is that last little thing that pushes you over the edge and you snap.

Today I snapped. All that I do, and she walks all over me. I knew that, but friends sometimes just have to deal with that and help out. But not anymore. She takes me for granted, and I find out today that she is bitching to my nieces teachers about me. Apparently I don't help her out around the house. I agreed to babysit, I did not agree to pick up all her clothes from all over the house, put all her shoes away when I trip over them, put her dirty dishes in the sink for her or even wash them, clean off the table when she piles it high with crap, wash her laundry, vacuum everyday, etc ... I keep MY things in MY room. I make a mess anywhere in the house, I clean it up instantly and never leave stuff lying around. I have EXTREME OCD. I want things put away neatly and properly. She lets them pile all over everything. I used to clean it and organize it whenever I wanted to use the table or was just sick of stuff falling off, but I gave up on that. I turn away and pretend I don't see her three pairs of shoes on the bathroom floor, two pairs under the dinning table, two in the living room by the couch. I pretend I don't see that stack of dirty dinner plattes she and her two daughters left on the kitchen couch, the food falling off the plate to trail across the cushion to invite the ants we always get to come on inside. I pretend her stupid couch pillows are not sitting in puddles of their spilled soda. I refuse to clean up after them anymore, that is not what I signed on for. My rule for living here: I'll clean up after me, you guys clean up after you. She apparently has been having a problem with this. She was bitching to the headstart teachers. And, I hear, they don't believe a word she says. They feel bad for me and wonder why I put up with M. Everyone I know wonders why I put up with her. Because that's what friends do.

 

Until one keeps taking the other for granted and using them without any appreciation. Then bitches behind the others back. If I hadn't been here all last summer, all this school year, do you realize how much child care she would have paid for? Tell you what, she wouldn't have that closet full of clothes and all those mountains of shoes. She would not buy the girls new clothes and shoes to match each outfit every other day. She would not have internet, or direct tv, or any of the millions of stupid decorating items she keeps buying. All the bland, colorless, ugly rugs the girls spill stuff on and stain, the ugly flower vases, the horrible flower pictures on the walls. All shades of soft pink and off white and brown. Boring, dull. She wouldn't have any of that if she didn't not have me to watch the girls about 30 hours a week. I didn't get a paying job because she needed me here to take care of her kids. Yet she hasn't bought me anything I need like she said she would. My mom gets me my deodorant, toothpaste, dog food, cat food, shampoo, gas money, etc ... M doesn't pay me anything. My half of the bills? That's all. About $500. Yeah, childcare will cost her around $800. And who is going to come over around 6:30 in the morning and get the girls up at 7 to get them ready for school then be there to pick them up everyday? Daycares don't do that. And who is going to watch them all day everyday of summer? I honestly don't know for I've started to pack my things. I'm going to stay with my sister while I finish my book. She's on the road, the house is empty and unused right now. Peace and quiet to work on my stories, two spare bedrooms to choose from. Goodbye being used and stepped on, hello work!

Stress no more, worry no more, babysit no more. Just me, my dogs and cat, and my laptop. I won't have to stop working after only six hours to spend the rest of my day plugging my ears trying to stay sane as the girls fight, scream, and stomp through the house like little earthquakes. I can work for 8, 10, 15 hours in complete quiet everyday! I cannot wait. You cannot write with kids screaming in your ears all day. When M gets home from work in the evening, the girls get LOUDER. They don't actually go to bed until midnight, so it isn't like I can write in the evening after bedtime because I also have to be up bright and early to work. Though I don't sleep much, I do need SOME sleep once in a while.

When Carrie said, "Pick a room," my shoulders slumped and the weight of the world just floated away. I'll give M MAYBE until summer to figure out what she's going to do without me, but no longer. I'm not trapped anymore by myself. I've threatened silently to myself that I could move out any time I wanted, that I didn't need to be here, but I never meant it. I didn't want to just ditch her with nobody to help. Not easy being a single mom. I know this even though I have no children. But she just ruined her life by treating me this way. This morning was the last straw I could deal with. Anger only makes me cry when I am truely good and pissed off. Let me tell you, this morning I bawled like a baby.

 

Then I rejoiced.