Well, L’s moved the goalposts again. First it was sure, you can eat my eggs, then it was nope, they’re for the dogs. Then it was we’ve got community bacon in the fridge, and now it’s never there anymore. Now it’s I don’t get the subsidy for my health premium anymore so you gotta help with the utilities. I had a real bad moment with that (in my head) until she actually broke it down and it turns out her utilities are actually really cheap, so maybe I don’t have to panic anymore. As long as I don’t get a lot of $20 and $30 and $40 weeks with the scutwork for Neighbor and can find other income sources too. She’s very flexible on how I pay my end, which helps. $30 a week will see it done, or the average of that, anyway. I only managed $20 this week.
I gotta say it rattled me though because her voicing the notion that I might want to move out with the change in conditions rolled just a bit too easily off her tongue. I’ve never 100% felt like she wanted me here — no one else was answering her call for help with the dogs, and this had gone on for weeks by the time I offered, and the only time I hear from her on Facebook proper (not the messenger) is when she’s correcting something I’ve posted — and I now consider the situation decidedly shaky.
Meanwhile, it seems like every time I complain about the general situation with Neighbor, he does some weird thing to redeem it, or at least improve it.
So yesterday I walked to Walmart again, which makes it twice in a week, and I’d have only had to go the one time had he paid me on time for the scutwork this past week. One of those times he was so gung-ho to go hang out with L that he quite forgot himself, OR otherwise he’s so engrossed in this work on the latest book that he’s forgetting anyway. Either way. Same result.
So I was back on our road and approaching the T intersection with the mailboxes and immediately recognize his car as he’s sitting there talking with another neighbor. I had meant to check the mail on the way back, so I had to wait til he was done talking since he was so close to the boxes that I couldn’t properly get in to open ours. Stevie and Spot were with him and were quite happy to see (and bark at) me. He got done with his conversation and then said he’d see me at L’s house. There was no one else in the car. I thought, It’s the dogs, he doesn’t want the dogs possibly getting out, but was still kind of miffed. Because this is not the only time someone could have given me a ride but could not be fucked to do it. Seems to be a chronic disease with the both of them.
By the time I got back to the house I was fuming. L acting almost like she wants to shove me out the door, the total crash and burn with Stuart, J and his fucking weirdness and I still can’t figure that out, Neighbor doing… whatever the fuck Neighbor is doing. I’m tired. I don’t expect to be worshiped but is it too much to ask that maybe someone in the real world actually likes me? I guess it is.
And then I walked through the front door and Neighbor apologized for not giving me a ride. That pulled me up short. I emotionally course-corrected and said to him that I’d figured it was about keeping the dogs in the car and he said yes, and he had had raw hamburger in the front seat, but he supposed I could have still ridden in the back. This whole exchange taking place with him mostly still staring at his laptop screen because, well, it’s Neighbor. But that was better than he’d been.
Then, last night, he happened to be on Facebook and encountered a meme I’d posted about going to sleep in a band tshirt and then waking up with a famous lyric, and he named the band UFO and one of their songs, and this touched off about a twentysomething-comment conversation in which we established that he’s got a lot of stories about personal contact with musicians and bands, and he’d be happy to tell me about them sometime.
I suppose I could have asked him today but as I told him last night, I do recognize that oftentimes he’s got stuff going on that I don’t want to interrupt. Probably it can be something we talk about next meat-sorting night. Kind of hoping Mack doesn’t show up, which would sort of facilitate that.
but damn, boy… don’t put no image in my head of you waking up “too hot to handle.” Fucking honestly.
Sure enough, today he was back with nose in laptop. Don’t think we even exchanged any words, but did do my daily floor-sweeping and here comes Jamie wanting pettings. Most of the time Jamie just wants to chill and take naps but once in a while he takes a shine to me and then he’s all over me until he’s done with me petting him. He was unusually affectionate today, and right in front of Neighbor, too. That was fun. Boy, I could pet you like this too. Better, even. Wanna?
I need to get my brain together. Sunday’s a good day to really work on that, if I even do.
Oh and a small victory today. I let my last four burger patties go too long in the fridge and they had started getting slimy around the edges. You are now grossing out and you’re right, we’re supposed to assume those have gone bad. Guess what. I fucking wrapped them in bacon and baked them for like 50 minutes and then fucking ate them. I’m completely fine. They even tasted okay. I couldn’t believe it. I’m never doing that again — next time it’ll be hospitalization for God knows what — but right now, I kinda feel like I cracked cold fusion.
Now if I could crack the Neighbor situation. Or, more importantly, my income situation. That’s where I really ought to be focusing.
(I did apply for a job again. Will I get it? Fuck no. Moving on now.)