Your roommate sounds like my wife's father. Dude can't get his shit together for no discernible reason.
If he doesn't, then you know what must be done: He has to leave. He can't be dragging you two down this shit road again.
Yes and no. I do customer service every weekday night as my part time job at the diy store. It's been good for me, as it's taught me to turn off my inner monologue and assumptions and listen to what the customer really wants and needs. And since I do diy myself, I can sympathize with what they want. If a customer is being a PITA, it's my choice if, afterwards, I go with the "genuine" part of me that lets it pass because, hey, all of us can be pains sometimes, or if I let rip with the equally "genuine" side that likes to grouse and make things out to be worse than they are. The job overall is about solving problems, and I like solving problems. My biggest need to grin and bear it--- which, too often, I find it difficult to do--- is with management and fellow employees who either aren't doing their jobs or who go overboard and mess things up. Like the guy over in Flooring who hates to cut carpet, so the rest of us, including me, who am not even in Flooring, end up doing it for him at the last minute. Hey, I hate cutting carpet, too. I'll even admit to the customers that I'm not too good at it. But, that out of the way, I'll manage to do it and send the folks home happy. And the overboarders? A new Clean Department Desk edict has come down from On High. Thursday I discovered that some zealot had taken that to include ripping down and throwing away the lists of in-store phone extensions and manufacturers' customer service lines. I and another girl were able to reconstruct most of the latter, but the in-store numbers? Now I have no idea whom to call on what line. It stinks.
Not my proudest moment, but four people bumped into my bag walking down two blocks and I finally had to yell at the last one to walk around me. I was on the right side of the street and they could have easily shifted if they felt like it. I had spent about 5 hours before caring for a disabled family member and even held the door open for an elderly man unloading items into his restaurant. I don't feel I'm asking for anything extraordinary. Just don't collide into me!
Why, bloody hell, why? When I think I can be happy, when someone is making me happy, my brain has to fuck everything up. I've destroyed yet another friendship. I've got to stop doing this.
Can't write... can't come up with a good idea... and Columbo has just come on the TV, which will waste another couple of hours.
may be its them not you ? hugs barnie - we don't always agree but I've never thought you were a shitty person
I think in this instance, it is me. Thanks moose, you're too kind. And Link you're too sweet, if you want to be friends with me, we can be.
I went to our school's creative writing group today. I thought we didn’t have it until one of the members showed up. She was on her phone and didn’t pay me much attention when I tried to talk to her while we waited in the hall. When we got word that the room had been changed I tried to ask who found us the new room and she seemed a bit annoyed when I asked if it was one of the other members who found us the room. Then she completely left me when we were walking to the class only to go up and talk to one of the other members. I feel like I don’t even exist to her or the group. I might not go because of this and the fact that it’s not organized as it once was, we have to keep moving from room to room, hardly anyone shows up anymore and we have to keep canceling it.
Oh yes body, when you are running a dungeon with one friend and two of their friends, you should faint and have my heart go berserk. I can't even function biologically.
To all of you dickholes who think it's funny to swerve slightly toward people running on the side of the road, the following: Anáil nathrach orth bhais betha, do cheol déanta! And through this charm of making I invoke a pox upon thee and thine. Yes, thine. When I am out in the world running, I know there is always a small worry in the heart of those whom I call mine, a worry that some bell-end like yourself will pull some shit like this and actually cause me harm. Those who I think of as mine know you are in the world, so they worry. And because you make make them worry, my spell is cast broad and wide. Enjoy.
Didn't you know it's illogical to use "you" when you're not actually talking to me? In all seriousness, though, that shit is ridiculous. I ride my bicycle almost daily and damn near get hit every single day. Either kids trying to be funny, or assholes not paying attention. It makes me nervous let my son ride his bike.
It doesn't help either that I live out in the country. Country roads. No sidewalks. Most of the time I'm running along the very edge, I've got all my ridiculous reflective gear on so that I can be seen. Getting splashed with roadside mud-water is a given. And then I have to deal with naco-ass punks who think it's funny to scare me with their little Daewoo.
The worst about riding in the city are all the driveways into shopping centers, small roads, etc. So when I'm in a bike lane, and people are turning, they don't often look in any direction other than against traffic so they know when to turn. And I'm an asshole, so I'll come REALLY close to letting them hit me and act like I'm pissed. I've been doing this long enough to know what to look for, but my son is five. He ran head on into a parked car not three weeks ago, and often rides long stretches whilst looking at his feet, haha. I'm not confident out there riding with him because it's my awareness that's saved me from being hit, not the drivers paying attention.
I'm not happy about the fact my pack of toilet rolls comes with instructions (no lie). I KNOW HOW TO WIPE MY OWN ARSE!!
No. That guy is young enough to be my kid. And not even my oldest kid, but like me second or maybe third kid.