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.
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