2012 Sept 02 Sunday, I never bought any food on Saturday as I hadn’t been able to talk to Nancy or Frank as to where I could put my stuff in the refrigerator, as well as where I was going to store my non perishable food stuff. I talked to Nancy this morning after they got up around noon and she gave me some cupboard and fridge space, enough to keep my basics. Other foodstuff and some of my utensils I can keep in a cupboard in my room.
2012 Sept 07 Friday It’s kind of weird as the two young people that also room here usually eat when and what Frank and Nancy eat. No one eats breakfast and supper isn’t until 8:30 – 9:00 at night. It’s like a communal kitchen, but where it’s Nancy (depending on what shift she works) or Frank that does the cooking, and Frank doesn’t get home until after 8:30pm, and the young ones just wait until supper is ready. The young guy make spaghetti for himself the other day, but he didn’t just make one of two servings, he used the whole package, enough for 10 people, and then he stuffed the pot in the fridge as leftover’s. He then eats at it during the day for days, trying to get rid of it as no one else wants it. He told me I could help myself, but I already had my spaghetti feed a day before he made his, so I wasn’t interested.
I’ve also noticed that the two young people seem lost. They both have jobs, but they are in their own little world that doesn’t include the basics of living and caring for themselves. It’s just like they are large toddlers. They leave their bedroom door open at times and I can’t help but notice how littered and messy the rooms are. When they use the bathroom, whatever falls on the counter or floor, stays there, same goes for the kitchen and even the patio. Maybe it’s just the three generation gap at work, but there seems to be this hopelessness or indifference that is reflected, not only by their rooms, but in their general attitude. They look clean and as normal as present teens can be when they go out, as that is the public perception that they want to portray, but that is not what they are really like. The young guy had his girlfriend (mother figure) over the other day and she cleaned up his room, but a few hours after she left, he had things on the floor again.
The other part of the generation gap is with Frank and Nancy as they are in their later 40’s and are consumed with their jobs, Nancy working a rotating three shift schedule, mornings, afternoons and nights, while Frank works 8 am to 8 pm, 7 days a week. Both of them have very little time for each other, or to do things around the house, other than prepare meals and clean up after the toddlers. Nancy also tries to be this cool mother figure to them, cleaning up after them (once a week) and driving them to the store to get beer, cigarettes, or maybe some food. I know the young ones are also smoking weed, but they’re not toking up in the house or yard. They are what they are, and I just do my own thing.
I don’t know what these young kids would do if no one cleaned up after them or prepared their meals and did their laundry. They are like a hoarder or litterbug that would eventually be living in and eating their own excrement. I’m not saying that one needs to be a clean freak, BUT!….
Ahhh! I just got it… It’s all about choice. People are going to be toddlers and litterbugs as long as there are people that are willing to mother them, to pick up after them and take care of them. It’s all about power and control and of course, denial, free Will and choice.
Nancy hooked up my internet, (25 character password). Apparently, the TV and movies are also available via the computer but that hasn’t been activated as yet. I don’t rally miss TV….
2012 Oct 08 2:30 am Well I’ve been awake for a good hour and a half coughing and hacking away from the smell of weed/hash. I had gotten up to go to the bathroom and when I opened my door, the unmistakable smell of weed and another smell that could be hash, filled my lungs and I began to cough and hack. When I was in the bathroom, I opened the window and was able to breathe some fresh air. Even though I held my breath when I went back to my room, the damage had been done as I continued to cough, as my lungs were trying to expel the poison they had taken in. This shit tonight is not only affecting my lungs, but is also giving ne a headache and I feel disoriented. I’m letting Paul know tomorrow that I’ll be looking for another place.
9:45 am. I met Paul in the hallway, and told him that I don’t see him giving up his addiction to pot and whatever, so I’ll be looking for a new place and will be moving out by the end of the month. I told him how it was affecting me and even as I talked to him in the hallway, I could feel my breathing getting shorter and my voice raspy, as could he. He said that I was a good tenant and that he didn’t know it affected me in the way that he could now see. He said that he didn’t want me to go and that he would stop using it if it bothered me, and that he would do it outside or away from home. I said, OK, we’ll see.
