So today someone moved in the house. Like, moved in with a bed and a fuckload of luggage. We had one spare room in the house before and that was already rented out, so this new guy who came in is sleeping in Dad's study (which we had to clear out today). See, this new guy is one of Dad's friends, and apparently he lost his job and has now relocated to Canberra, where he has a job but no accommodation. His daughter is here. My initial reaction was, "Why can't he just go live with his daughter?" You know, he's only met us TWICE. The first time he was introduced to Dad through a mutual friend, at a dinner party. The second time he came over with the same mutual friend to admire our house.
Anyway, I have no idea why Dad's relationship with him is close enough to warrant him moving in. Apparently he can't go to his daughter because she's living with her boyfriend. For fuck's sake. What if I want to watch porn in the middle of the night and he happens to be awake? It's the same problem, isn't it? Except now I have to show some decency and refrain. ERGH.
When I suffer withdrawal symptoms I curl into a ball of cuteness
Look, he's not a bad guy- but I guess I just don't like him in our house. Hm, no, that's not really the reason. I'm slightly hostile because I had to spend the morning cleaning the house, just so he could move in. I'm also annoyed at the fact that I'm going to have to feign politeness in front of him and keep myself from replying when my parents talk shit about me in front of him. Yeah, my parents have a tendency to talk about me in front of people they barely know- and they never talk about anything nice. It's usually regarding my behavioral issues, like how I'm too lazy and how I don't take my work seriously enough. THEN they talk about the really private stuff- which I will not disclose here, but of course it's private stuff about ME. Remember that this is to someone they don't even know well- not that I'd appreciate it if they told someone they do know well. I wish they'd just shut the fuck up.
Then there's also the problem of him being Dad's friend. Not that Mum's friends are any better- her best friend is a total bitch. But Dad's friends are a whole different thing altogether. They're not openly bitchy (like Mum's), but there's always this...absent-mindedness about them, and they tick me off in a non-confronting manner. One of Dad's friends wouldn't shut up about how eating raw-everything-minus-meat is good for your health. Now I'm stuck with a salad everyday, where before Dad would say there was too much bacteria on raw foods and it'd make us ill. I fucking hate, despise, detest these salads. Oh, and he also happened to mention how lemon juice was good for your something-or-rather. Now Dad buys lemons from the market on a regular basis and is thinking about planting a lemon tree.
Then there's that time, when Mr. I-Love-Raw-Food stayed overnight, and he complained to Dad in the morning about how he couldn't sleep, because I TYPED TOO LOUDLY. I overheard that. I was so tempted to tell him to get the fuck out. TWO closed doors and one corridor between us, and what, my typing kept him awake? It's not like I smash my keyboard rhythmically into the table. ALTHOUGH I WILL, NEXT TIME HE COMES AROUND. Faggot.
Alright my semi-tantrum is over. New guy who's moved in isn't so bad. He's polite, and does not seem overly-retarded. Good enough for me. My expectations of Dad's friends are looow. I suspect I'll have a nickname for him before the week's out.
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