The Real End

Moving day, he asked me to text him when I was on my way so he made sure to be "out of my way" and then for me to text him when I was done. 

I told him to let me know when he was out so that I can clean the apartment one last time before handing in my key - he never did.

Finally a week before the lease is up I ask if it's safe if I go to the apartment to clean, he says yes.

SO - yesterday I go to clean, and I made sure to check everything to make sure in the moving commotion I hadn't left anything behind.  I look in the attic and there are 6 boxes and my carpet washer in there.  They were on the other side of the attic where his stuff was, which is why I didn't see them when I moved. 

I shouldn't be surprised, but I guess I am...  I'm surprised that he didn't have the common courtesy to mention when he moved all of his stuff out "hey, not sure if you left them on purpose and are coming to get them later, but did you realize you left some stuff in the attic?"

I guess some people never stop surprising you...


On another note, my level of stress since leaving has dropped tremendously.  My boy sleeps so much better than he ever did in the apartment and even his stress level has dropped.  He loves living with family and having his own space, not having the fan turned on when he is trying to sleep (he likes it quiet and Bart needed a wind tunnel in his face) and he loves not getting woken up by the screaming dog. 

Or is that me? 

I don't know, but we have a great sense of togetherness here.  We help each other out and it's not a chore to clean up - even if it is after someone else sometimes.  Everyone appreciates everyone else and we all work together like a well oiled machine.

Ahhhh... peace.  :)

The End

So we gave each other the silent treatment for about 3 weeks, then finally acknowledged each other and interacted for a weekend.  We talked about looking for places and he said he had put in for an apartment 5 doors down and was waiting to hear back.

So 2 days after we start talking, he texts me this: 

Art:  "I got the apartment up the road.  Good news!  Can I keep the dresser that Bart is using?  And can I borrow your movers for the big stuff?" 


(Bart was on an air mattress with no furniture when we moved in together, I hated it so I offered him the dresser that came with my boy's crib set.)

Me:  Congrats!  Yes you can keep the dresser.  What movers?



Art:  Aw thanks!  Your band of movers from last time!  I'll help you move if I can borrow them - I just need them for like 15 minutes for the big stuff, no boxes or anything.

...

...


Me:  My friends and family???????  Um... I'll have to ask.

Art:  Nah, that's ok.  But I do need my sofa and chair, can they bring that?  (My mother was holding his sofa and chair because both of our living rooms didn't fit into the apartment.)

Me:  Sure.




So...  he wanted me to tell MY friends and family to help him move!!!!  Not that I hired movers and he wanted to use them for 15 minutes, he wanted me to tell MY friends and family to help HIM move!!!!  AND he will help me move IF he can use my "movers" to move him???? 

IS THAT BALLSY OF HIM OR WHAT????????  Seriously?!?!?!?!?  The nerve!  Especially after all the fighting we had done!  Seriously he is in his own little world!


Needless to say my "movers" didn't even want to return his sofa and chair - they were so offended that he would even say that!!!  I mean, if he wanted to ask for help, but they clearly had NO relationship with him for him to even ask that!  GET YOUR OWN FRIENDS AND FAMILY!!!!

So... we didn't talk much after that, I kept to myself, stayed at my sister's house for the next two weeks, then moved my stuff out the end of March.  Whew - I can breathe again!

The Aftermath...

Well, I have to say, it's been quite tense here.  He got home Tuesday night and of course we didn't acknowledge each other.  For a couple of days now we just pass each other as if we're not there, the only time we interact is if we are in the kitchen cooking at the same time, then it's the polite forced "excuse me" etc etc etc (although this morning he made sure I was done cooking before entering the kitchen.) 

Also, as soon as he dirties a dish he puts it in the dishwasher.  If he is trying to prove that the dirty dishes are all mine it's not gonna happen because I'm doing the same.  So that's a plus.  But of course I came home on the really beautiful warm day (Thursday) and the windows were open and I thought I was in the wild west because there were tumbleweeds of fur rolling across our floor.  I made sure one rolled right into Art's room...




Yesterday (Friday) I had a moment where I almost lost it.  I had arranged for the landlord to take the last two month's rent out of my security deposit (I think I had already shared that with you).  Yesterday I get a text from him:

Landlord:  I just talked to Art.  He said that $825 of the security deposit is his.  That being said, I should be expecting April rent from you, right?

Me:  *shaking from anger* Not true.  I will clear things up for him.

Me to Art:  When we moved in I payed the security deposit and the first month's rent.  You paid me half of the first month's rent (the money you just gave me) but we had agreed you didn't have to pay me the half of the security one because you couldn't afford it and two because I would just get it all back at the end of our lease so it's not like I'd lose any money.

Art:  I completely forgot about that I thought I was paying back half of the security deposit.  Okay sorry that one slipped my mind.

I forwarded both to the landlord and said: I have both cancelled checks to show I paid them both and he can tell you what he just paid me back if you need to verify more.

Landlord:  Ok, sounds good.


I was left shaking and full of adrenaline.  I seriously thought Art was going to try to screw me over and take my money.  I'm glad he realized his mistake.




I know it's mean but I'm glad I'm now not the only one that is uncomfortable here.  I'm glad I'm not the only one that is avoiding being home.  It should only be fair.  We are both, of course, still being nice to the boys, although I think Art is doing a better job of it than me to be honest.  I will work on it.

I did notice Art actually showered today, and the other night I almost fell off my chair because he actually brushed his teeth before bed. 



51 days until the lease is up.  I feel like time is ticking and I'm not nearly as prepared as I should be.  I need to start packing and I need to start looking at places... even the ones I'm not expecting to be nice... I don't want April to get here and then me not have a plan. 

One of my very bestest school buddies told me this on Thursday when I was freaking out:  "How do you eat an elephant?  One bite at a time."  That is so true.  Lately I feel like my "elephant" is too much to "eat" that I don't know where to start or if I'll be able to handle it... but I can only do it one bite at a time.  It will all work out.

My breaking point...

So I came home today (Tuesday) after leaving Monday morning, and I came home to a sink full of dishes and a sticky toilet seat.  Not tiny little sprinkle drops - big fat drops.  Ok yes, most of the dishes in the sink were mine, but they weren't all mine, BUT I figured if I'm going to be the only one to clean the bathroom, then he is going to be in charge of the kitchen.  Well of course that's not how it worked.  I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher tonight, I had JUST cleaned the bathroom on Sunday. 

So...  today is the day I exploded.  Some of you heard most of this already, but for those of you that didn't, this is how it went:

Me:  Seriously you need to remember to put up the seat when you pee... I'm tired of cleaning the toilet seat before I use it every time.

Art:  Sorry.  You're vastly out-numbered, ya know.  But yay you're cleaning!

Me:  Actually it was all you because the boys weren't here yesterday plus you're the only one that pees out sugar, leaving a sticky residue.  And I already cleaned the toilet on Sunday... someone has to do it.

Art: I never said it wasn't *me* I just said you were outnumbered.  But your chemical analysis is fascinating.  Do you put on latex gloves before you check for stickiness?

Me:  Nope, I sat on it once.  Never made that mistake again.  You can see it's sticky.  Looks like drops of dried syrup.  You should look into patenting that as an adhesive then you will have lots of money - yay!

Art:  Well it doesn't work very well.  You managed to get up.  Hey if I pee in other places around the house will you clean there too?

Me:  Don't start with the cleaning because besides your room you don't lift a finger.  Your dog's hair is in balls under everything until I clean it - oh and btw I'm here half the time you are so it's your filth.

Me:  You used to have the wipies out when you cooked at the condo yet here you drop a whole pizza upside down in my oven and you don't even scrape the chunks out. I've noticed you cleaned the bathroom once since living here - and you having your 6 year old do it doesn't count cuz he cleans... well like a 6 year old.  About as well as you do.  My space is dusty and messy but I'm not dirty like you... Seriously a monster could crawl out of the toilet and you wouldn't care.  Hey is the sticky pee to keep them trapped on the toilet?  Hey look at that, you have a real superpower after all.

Art:  Wow.  That was a pretty nasty tirade.  Managed to use my diabetes, my son and my like for coming books all in one rant.

Me:  I toned it down...

Art:  It was impressive.  Feel better?

Me:  Maybe.  But can you please clean up after you use the toilet?

Art:  I'm not sure your presentation deserves the respect of a response.  We have a month and a half left.  Let's leave it at that.

Me:  Well I also don't deserve to clean up someone else's pee so me or my son don't sit on it.  that seems common courtesy to me.    55 days to be exact.

Me again:  And don't worry - I'm avoiding being here as much as possible.  If I could move this weekend I would.

Art:  I apologized, I tried to keep it light and fun.  I don't want to fight with you or say mean things to you.  I'm a little taken back at how hateful you're being.

Me:  Your sarcastic apology doesn't count lol I'm not being hateful I'm just at wits end and need my own space as soon as humanly possible.

Art:  I'm sorry.  And if that isn't your idea of 'hateful' comments I'm afraid to really make you mad.  Of course there was still my daughter and my writing left.


I didn't reply... he should be home soon.  Wonder what that's gonna be like.



UGH!!!!!!  My heart was beating so fast I was so mad I swear if I could have walked out and never come back I would have.  I can't take this anymore...

55 days left...  Will I survive???   WILL HE?

Nightmares...

First let me just tell you a little story I just remembered about my oven.  I'm only reminded of it because he is using my oven now. 

When Art had his own place and I'd go over to hang out, he'd cook and as he cooked he'd have his Lysol disinfecting wipes out and he'd be wiping the stove.  (This is what I thought I was moving in with when I agreed to move in with him.) A few months ago I went to open the oven door (my stove/oven, btw - I brought it with me when we moved in) and saw a HUGE GLOP of stuff on the door and on the bottom of the oven.  I asked him what it was and he said he had cooked a whole pizza and was trying to balance it on 2 spatulas and it fell completely upside down on the oven door. So... if in YOUR place you can wipe up every small splatter as soon as it happens as you're cooking, why do you leave GLOBS of melted cheese on MY oven door/bottom when you're an idiot and try to balance a whole hot pizza on two spatulas?????  It makes me so mad.  Seriously.


So this morning I had a dream... or maybe a nightmare.  In it I complained about Art not cleaning as much as I did (the toilet is disgusting, you should see it - seriously WHY can't he clean it???? Why do I have to do it every time???) and then I saw him enter my room and come out with a folded t-shirt looking thing.  I only half saw it out of the corner of my eye because I was doing something else.  So I eventually go into my room and look in my closet and he had installed a rod halfway down my closet and his stuff was in there.  When I confronted him about it he laughed and said "I wondered how long it'd take you to notice that.  If we're going to do everything 50/50 then I want half of everything, including your closet." 

At that point I went OFF on him and told him that I shouldn't have to clean as much as him (and definitely NOT MORE) because I was barely home - about half time or less at this point - and that the disgusting bathroom filth is all his, and that HE was the one that peed STICKY SUGAR which made everything disgustingly gross, and he was the one with the disgusting hairy dog, etc etc etc!!! 

In my dream I was screaming at him so hard that I would run out of breath while I still had things to say so I was trying to word things with no breath (think Ace Ventura when he sucks in a deep breath and then tells the rich guy with the guano what he thinks happened based on what he observed.) 

I was so mad that I woke up full of anger.  I'd say this is definitely not healthy.

And the very MOST there are 58 days left and then I will be at peace...  Ohm...  Ohm... OHM...

The end is near...

Today (Tuesday night) is my first day back to the apartment since I left Friday morning.  Last week was full of attitude and snapping.  I think I can't hide my unhappiness, therefore he is snapping in response.  So I avoided being home all weekend.  I come home and the same dishes I put in the dishwasher to wash are in there - they haven't been unloaded.  The sink is full of dishes and the toilet seat is all sticky.  And icing on the cake, the MOFO ate the bag of M&Ms that I was saving in the freezer.  I confronted him about it (yes I did) and he said they were his.  Um, no.  They were in my shelf, with the Dove chocolate bar that I also put in there at the same time, that is still in there.  I'm so beyond done I can't even being to tell you.

Well, yes I can.

Today I told the landlord to use the security deposit (all mine) to pay for my final 2 month's rent, and I told him I very well may move out sooner if I find something.  At this point losing a month's worth of rent is well worth the peace of mind of having my own place and sleeping in my own bed every night.  When I'm winding down for the day at work, just the thought of having to come here makes me sad and I wish I could avoid it, yet the thought of packing up for an overnight stay at my sister's is getting old too.  I love to spend time with them, I hate to pack up my life (work stuff, school stuff, overnight stuff, my son's stuff, etc) every other day. 

So... I feel a bit deflated. 

But on the flip side, I already reached out to a realtor about an apartment that I hope to look at soon.  I am planning on getting boxes soon so I can start packing - hopefully this weekend.  The end is near but unfortunately it's not near enough... I will take steps that will get me closer to the end and stay focused so I can stay sane.

At the very MOST I am here for another 62 days... but I know it will be less than that.

Wish me luck... and strength.

Seriously?!?!

Ok so last night (Sunday almost 8pm) I come home after being out since Saturday morning (left before 9am) and Art is home, cooking.  We say our hellos, talk about our weekends, etc.  He goes into his room to read and I go into my room to do school work.  I come out to have a bowl of cereal and I touch my milk and it's a little bit warm.  Ok... odd.  I smell it and it smells a little off, but not BAD, so I figured I'd use it for the last night tonight and then dump it.  The whole time I'm feeling the outside going "why does this not feel really cold???"  So I pour it and before taking a bite I just take some of the milk on the spoon and put it in my mouth.  It's pretty much room temperature.  Um... WTF.  I dump my bowl of cereal and check the setting on the fridge, it seems ok, not really sure what's going on. 

I hover in Art's room and say "I'm not sure if there's something wrong with the fridge..." and he very casually without skipping a beat says "Oh, I came home and the fridge was open.  It must have stayed open all day."

Ok, so either you or your Bart didn't close the fridge all the way before you left for work (he usually leaves before 9), and you didn't notice?  You came home (he gets home usually after 6) and you just shut the door????  AND THEN when I get home, you don't think to mention that my food might be spoiled because it was room temperature for over 9 hours and I may want to either check it or at throw it out to avoid getting sick???

SERIOUSLY?!?!   WTF!!!!  It's things like this that reinforce me not wanting to live with anyone, but more specifically HIM - because it's not only common sense but it's common courtesy and I think he should just continue to live in his little bubble all by himself!  I was SO MAD.

So... milk, yogurt, cheese, eggs, salad dressing... all in the garbage. 

77 days until April 30, 2012! 

Dear CVS...

Unfortunately I was limited to 1000 characters, so I was unable to really write and explain like I wanted to.  Here's what I ended up sending:

I need to tell you about one of your employees from the Cheshire location on Rte. 10 from 2/5/12, between 12:45 & 1pm. All I needed was a pack of napkins. I was waiting in the front for a few minutes while your employee stocked shelves with candy. She saw me eventually, acknowledged me, said she'd be with me in a few minutes. She finished stocking the shelf while I waited. She then walked away & eventually returned. She finally rang me out. As the transaction was finalizing, she started "scratching" her nose enthusiastically. When she handed me the receipt, the one she transferred from her other hand to her "scratching hand", she not only gave me a record of my transaction, she also gave me something extra. Yes, she left a booger on my receipt. I was disgusted but didn't have time to complain in person. I'm not usually picky about my customer service, but I do think when you're hunting for your staff, you should go for the gold. I will spread the word like she spread her mucous. Thanks

Oh, a present!!! For me????

Yesterday afternoon before the pre-movie incident, I had a baby shower to go to.  When I get there my best friend asks if I'll go to CVS to buy her a pack of napkins - of course I will!  So I get to CVS- which is right around the corner- I get the napkins, and then I head to the front. 

There's a lady that is stocking shelves upon shelves with Valentine's Day candy, and I wait there and look around, she eventually sees me after a few minutes and says "I'll be right there."  So she finishes stocking the shelf she was working on, grabs a few extra bags of M&M's and walks away. 

I'm thinking "Hellooooooo, live person here!!!  Where's the customer service?  I'm ONE person waiting to be checked out, and I'm fairly positive those bags of M&M's can wait the 2.5 minutes it will take me to pay for my order and leave." 

So she finally comes back and scans my card, scans the napkins, hits total.  I swipe my card, select credit, end of story.  She asks if I would like a bag.  "No thanks."  As we are waiting the 10 seconds between when the transaction completes and when the register spits out my receipt, she starts scratching her nose.  With the tip of her finger, but it's not a super quick motion.  It's like she's searching the edge of her nostril with the pointer finger of her left hand.

Finally after what seemed like 10 minutes of me watching her scratch her nose, my receipt is ready.  She grabs it with her right hand (whew!) and then transfers it into her left hand (ew!), then hands it to me.

I gingerly grab the receipt by the corner with the tips of my fingers as I'm already moving away from the counter towards the exit.  I'm grabbing it carefully - although I know its just a formality, I mean it's not like there's anything... 

What the ...



Is that a booger on my receipt?!?!?!?!?




Did this lady really just pick her nose in front of me, wipe her booger on my receipt and then proceeded to HAND me the receipt?????

At this point when the realization hits me I'm already outside, where I think I'm in shock, because I look down at the receipt like an idiot.  Finally I drop it from my hands and get to my car, get to the baby shower, where my first stop was the bathroom to wash my hands.

I plan on writing CVS about this incident, just because I want to know how they will reply.  I MAY just let you read the email once it's ready...

He said WHAT?!?!

Ok so last night we were getting along fine, I was in a super good mood, I decided to take a break from studying and go watch a movie with Art.  Before we leave he is hovering in my doorway and I jokingly say "what's up with ALL THIS????" And I make a motion that circles my room - it's currently a mess!  I'm home about half of the week or a bit more, and when I am home I have homework to do or I'm just braindead.  My boy gets tons of papers home from school and those end up on my dresser, and my clean laundry ends up piled on my bench or on a side of my bed.  It's not neat, I know, but put the laundry away and get rid of the papers and my room is in decent shape.  It's not like I have wrappers and pizza boxes lying around.  So I start saying "I clean and I..." and before could finish my thought he interrupts and says "No you don't." 

Me: Um... yes I do.

Art:  No, you don't clean.

Me:  UM... YES, I have cleaned.

Art:  Moving day doesn't count.

Me:  UM... I HAVE cleaned my room many times times and what I was GOING to say was that I clean my room and then a week later it's messy again.

What I SHOULD have said was "Your room is like a jail cell, it has NO furniture... and that is the ONLY thing that you clean!  I might be messy but I shower every day and I don't leave my sticky urine all over the toilet seat - and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one that's ever mopped these floors!!!" 

I've only noticed that he ever swept once or twice...seriously the clumps of hair are disgusting and it gets on everything.  But why should I be the ONLY one to clean it - it's not even my dog!!!!!!!!!!!

At least my mess is in just my area and not the common areas... which is where he likes to leave his disgusting unsanitary FILTH.

GRRRRRRRRR  I was so mad last night!




So when we were having the "dating life discussion", he had told me he had a date today.  He joked about bringing her to our place and using my room.  He knows it gets under my skin which is why he says it.  Yes, he can be a real gem. 

So today I randomly text him:  "I know it's been a while so I'll remind you...  Before all dates you must shower, brush your teeth and manscape.  Have fun tonight!" 

If he is going to throw in his little digs then I'm going to start returning them...




84 days!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Karma is a... how does that saying go?

So when Art and I had first moved in, when we were still buddy buddy, before I started seeing all these negative things, he needed a computer, and I had a desktop in my room.  I was more than willing to let him use my computer in my room - I told him go in whenever he needed, even if I wasn't home. 

Now, because I had moved from a house to a shared apartment, I didn't have room for a desk, so I had my computer oddly set up on a shelf.  We used a tv dinner table for the keyboard and mouse, and we pulled a bench I have in my bedroom over to sit.  It wasn't comfortable, but it worked. 

Well one day I'm there, and I'm in my room reading for school, he is at the computer.  The dog  (we never gave him a name... I still have almost 3 months to write about him... let's call him Fart) comes over and jumps on the bench like it's nothing.  Now... Art knows I'm not a pet person, he knows I don't like the hair and the smell of animals on my clothes and furniture, he knew I didn't like it.  He did nothing, so I pushed Fart off the bench.  The dog jumped right back up so I pushed him right back off.  He had made a comment to the dog like "sorry, she's home" or something like that.  I found it annoying, but figured he got the message that I didn't want Fart on my stuff - and that includes my couches, my bench, my bed. 

Well, a few days later I came home from work and some of the pillows on my made bed seemed disturbed, and the comforter was moved from the corner a bit.  Sure enough, there is a ton of Fart's hairs on my bed - even worse - partially on my pillow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?! 

Common courtesy says that you should respect the stuff that isn't yours.  It's fine if you're laid back and casual about everything...  but you know I like and don't like certain things and you're clearly in MY space, in MY room while I'm doing YOU a favor and allowing you to use MY room/computer.

Now shame on me for not speaking up.  As outspoken and opinionated as I can be, if it's going to make for a really uncomfortable situation I avoid confrontation at all cost.  He ended up getting a borrowed laptop from work soon after that, so he didn't need mine anymore - problem solved.

Now that Bart has an actual bed, when I see the dog curled up on Bart's bed, right ON the pillow - that dog that doesn't get bathed very often, whose paws touch who knows what outside, that smells - I can't help but chuckle.  Yes, Bart shouldn't pay for Art being an idiot... but still.  Art sees this and just allows it, only makes him get down when he's trying to read him a story before bed. 

So every time I walk by I can't help but smile on the inside... especially when I think of the nasty little hairs on the tip of Fart's, well, you know... that basically have clotted blood dried on them.  How's that vitamin C working for ya, buddy???  Maybe if Bart gets a funky skin infection, Art should give him some Vitamin C and Cranberry Extract.  I hear that stuff works wonders.

I know, I sound like a horrible person.  But yesterday Bart was getting on my last nerve.  I don't know why, but it was BAD.  It reinforced that I need to get OUT.  When it was bed time he kept making lots of noise while my boy was quiet, and I had given my boy specific instructions to not say a word or he was sleeping in my bed and not with his Best Buddy Bart.  It took every ounce of my self control to not jump into the room and get right into Bart's face and scream "BEEEEEE QUIEEEEEEEEEEET!!!!!!"  I know he would have ended up in tears and me and Art in a huge fight... that's why I held back. 



Karma... 

I wonder what I'm gonna get for venting via this blog...

....85 long days until April 30, 2012.

A little bit of this and a little bit of that...

My nephew demanded that my next post be funny, but really I've got nothing. I avoid being home, I keep to myself when I am, so there's no big story to share. I'm done tracking someone else's nastiness. Now I'm focusing on me, my upcoming changes this year, and being super positive and open to everything my future has coming my way. Work, school, home, socializing, etc.


Ok first the few updates that I have then on to more serious matters...

Today is the first time Art showers (while I'm here) for months and months... not saying it's the first time he showered since that long ago - but I haven't witnessed it in months. I haven't been home most weekends. We'll give him the benefit of the doubt.

I took the following picture the day after my last post... this is what the dog's pee looked like. He decided to give him vitamin C chewables and cranberry extract to treat his bloody urine. If your son was peeing blood, would you give him vitamin C and cranberry extract to treat it? So... surprise surprise, it "got better" then came back - GASP - really??? And last night he says if it doesn't clear up he is gonna bring him in for a visit. Hmmm... now that he probably has a dead kidney floating around in his body because his infection went untreated... that's probably a good idea to bring him in for a visit.

Last night I finally saw the toothbrush on the charger... first time since he had said that Bart couldn't use it because it needed to be charged... since my last post. How long has it been since that brush has been used?

Now more talking, less venting:

Last night Art decided to ask me about dates I've been on, so we talked about that, and then my lack of dating life.  He said he might be ready to start dating soon, since he's officially divorced now.  I'm thinking "more power to that sad woman that has to deal with THAT..." 

But his talk helped me realize that I really don't get out much.  So it's time to change that.  I'm going to make a conscious effort to get out more so that I have the opportunity to meet new people.  I hope to meet good people through school.  But I guess in this point in my life it's hard because I want something meaningful, not something casual.  I want something with the potential for long term.  And I guess if a guy gets that vibe it might scare him... which means we're in different places in our lives and that's fine.  Art did make me realize there's nothing wrong with me wanting something long term, and that if a guy doesn't like it there's nothing wrong with that, that I'm just meeting the wrong people.  He said he doesn't get how someone that spends some time with me could possibly not want to be with me (unless he doesn't want long term) because I'm quite the catch: "funny, pretty, responsible, you have your act together"

... see what I mean when I say Art's a good guy?  Just not meant to be my roommate.  I think we'll continue to be friends after I move, and we'll still get the boys together, but I just can't live with him.  And there's nothing wrong with that either.  You can't live with everyone, just like not everyone I go out on a date with is going to work out, etc etc etc.  Last night was a good conversation. 

He also already knows I gave my 90 days notice, and he knows he is moving too.  He did try to talk me into staying and even offered to pay more, and of course I said I lived too far from things, I spent so much money on gas, I hated not sleeping in my own bed every night, blah blah blah.  See?  I can use my filter when I need to - you all think I'm all rotten.  All that I said was true, but I didn't tell him that I can't stand living with a dog and all the dog hair, with sticky toilet seats, with slimy bathtubs.  I did, however, say that I missed my own space and with school changes possibly coming up this year I didn't know what was going to happen with my income, etc and that I needed to get my boy into a more long term living situation, and we both knew this wasn't long term.

So we've been open about looking for apartments, talking about possibilities, prices, etc.  So having that freedom to speak openly is nice, and surprisingly we've both been in a good mood and talking a lot more, even about our day to day life - where before we barely talked anymore.

I'm looking at places and seeing some decent possibilities... except it's too soon to look because no landlord will take an apartment off the market for me and not have any rent paid for 3 months... but I figured next month will be a good month to start looking more seriously.  We'll see if there's still good stuff out there.

In the meantime...  86 days until April 30, 2012.  :)

Mystery: SOLVED

So I'm obviously losing steam with this whole blogging thing, mostly because I'm avoiding being home as much as humanly possible.  I hate the drive, I hate the dog hair, I hate seeing all these things that annoy me.  Time with Art itself isn't horrible, we still get along fine, but I have to bite my tongue every time I'm there.  I really don't think I'm OCD, and anyone that knows me knows I'm not a neat freak.  But being DIRTY is different than being messy.  I'm tired of living with DIRTY.



Ok so Wednesday in Anatomy and Physiology II I learned that when a diabetic has uncontrolled blood sugars, they urinate glucose. That's sugar. Which is sticky.  And he doesn't take care of himself at all, so there goes that. 

Sticky toilet spot mystery: SOLVED. 

 

 

On Thursday after he got home with Bart from the grocery store he says to me "Bart cleaned half the bathroom with me today." I asked if he was home from school and he said "no, but when he got home I wasn't done so he got roped into it." I had to try really fight hard to not roll my eyes and say "ugh, no wonder it never looks like you clean - you have your 6 year old do it!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The sink looks like maybe it got wiped down, same with the toilet seat. MAYBE. He definitely didn't touch the tub or the floor. Or the floors outside of the bathroom. UGH - WTF. 

 

Disgusting Gross Bathroom including previously mentioned sticky toilet seat mystery:  SOLVED.

 

 

 

93 days until April 30, 2012..........   *sigh*

Nope.

Ok, first of all, how DIRTY does the toilet have to be before you decide to squirt some toilet cleaner in there and give it a scrub with the toilet brush????  I hurt my back last Monday (a week ago tomorrow) at the gym and have been unable to bend at the waist for most of the week.  Now I can but my back gets tired quick.  Do you think that MAYBE the ring in the toilet would be noticed, and MAYBE knowing I can't bend, that it (or the slimy bathtub) would get cleaned????  Nope.

After my vacation (January 9-13) I came home, and I don't think he has showered since my return on Saturday the 14th.  The toothbrush moved once, but when Bart asked to use Art's toothbrush last night his response was "It needs to be charged."  Has it gone on the charger????  Nope.

The dog is a dirty nasty hairball.  He gets bathed once a month maybe, but needs it so much more.  He smells and sheds like crazy.  Now, I've been home maybe 10 days this month, about half time (with either sleeping at my sister's or going on vacation), and do you think he might pick up the broom and sweep up the clumps of dog hair on the floor????  Nope.

One more thing with the dog.  It's not a glorified stuffed animal.  It's a living being, which needs care and maintenance (well, he might need to learn about his own maintenance before he learns about dog maintenance) - it needs baths, haircuts (furcuts??? what's this called??? GROOMING), claw trimming, and vet visits.  I've known of the dog since he's been with Art and Bart, over a year ago.  I've never known the dog to go to the vet.  And lately he's been having urine accident issues.  And his urine looks red.  This has been going on off and on for a few months... A FEW MONTHS.  Think Art's made an appointment for the vet????  Nope.

Wipies.  They're for wiping.  They're not meant for sponge baths.  If that's what you're using them for then can you at least close the lid so they don't dry out?  And buy some more, because at this point you're going to need more than just one or two.  I don't think that's too much to ask.  Well, is general hygiene and apartment cleaning/maintenance too much to ask????  Nope.




99 days until April 30, 2012.  There are some really awesome looking apartments out there right now... good price, location, size, etc.  I hope they're still there (and even more to choose from) come the beginning of March when I have to seriously start looking.

I was thinking about everything that I'm going to take with me when I leave.  This isn't a divorce, I'm taking ALL of my stuff - I don't care what you threw out when we moved in because we didn't have room for it all.  I threw out some stuff too.  When I leave he is going to be left with his couch, and TV, some scratched up wok and pan, plastic forks, and his and Bart's beds.  Oh well.  Is that my problem????  Nope.

Ode to White

Ode to White

White, what a clean color you are

Actually you’re the lack of any color at all

Or maybe you’re the lack of anything dirty

For white is so clean and pure… it’s purty

I see white in the fluffy clouds in the sky

I see white in angel wings that fly

White in hospitals means it’s a sterile environment

White wedding dresses make you look heaven sent

White, I’ve always thought such good things about you

But I suddenly see you in a different light - eww

White… white… WHITE

Why do you now make me want to fight?

White in my calcium supplement so one day I don’t break a hip

White is the promise for my teeth in that strip

White tangled up in my curls at my temples

WHITE IN MY NOSE HAIRS???  Not laughing – you see dimples???

Oh white, how you’ve disappointed me

I used to like you, but now, you see

I see you as a sign of aging

And when I see you, I start raging

White, please oh please, just leave me alone

When I see yet another white hair, I groan

Temple curls: Maybe I’ll just color you

To YOU, white nose hairs, I say: “PLUCK YOU!”