So, I've got this new live in housekeeper. Didn't ask for her, don't want her, not paying her, would MUCH rather that she just got the fuck out- but there she shits; wallowing on the sofa.
Complicated.
She irks the fuck out of me. She's really needy. She wants to talk to me all the time. She's hyper-sensitive, and she brings chaos to a space that I looked to for serenity and sanctuary. It's like a puppy, because I'm met at the door every time I come home with jubilance. And, she has "accidents" because it feels like she is pissing on my shoes when that excitement is immediately followed by some mindless babble about something that she saw on TV, or how much she misses her old house, or one of her "cleaning victories" like finding rust on the bathroom shelving, so she disassembled it and threw it away, and then made space for my towels on the bookshelf in my room!!
"Uhm thanks," (unintentional, but dead-on impersonation of Eeyore.)
I wonder if this is why so many straight men go to the bar after work before coming home to their wives who've been cooped up in the house all day long.
"Can I just go take off my shoes? I'm not really listening to you anyway. I'm just waiting for you to pause and breathe so that I can say, 'alright' and head up the stairs. So, can you at least let me get in the door?"
Well, I have all of this pent up hostility toward her; mostly because she's that combination of really fucking annoying and really fucking sensitive that turns really fucking explosive when you try to engage it with any approximation of a rebuff. Well, that and when I say something to her I don't want to be so pissed that I'm unleashing years of frustration that has shit to do with why you took it upon yourself to clean my bathroom and throw away my toothbrush and move the toothpaste to the bottom drawer. Who the fuck puts toothpaste in the bottom drawer though? Honestly! Stop fucking touching my stuff! I HATE YOU FOR SLAVERY!!!!
So, looking for a space to engage her where I can tell her what's up without attacking her has been really hard. I tried today over something I thought was reasonable; please stop parking in the driveway. I don't like to park on the street, (and if necessary)- I pay to live here and you don't.
Twenty minutes and two conversations later with comments like, "Do you want me to just park in the yard? Cuz, I'll park in the yard!" or "Okay, then I'll gladly block you in, but don't think I'll get up in the morning to move my car when you go to work, cuz it won't be pretty." I realize that I have driven way past my destination, and I'm all the way on the other side of town. So, here's where it gets strange (stranger?) stranger than a 50 year old crazy ass white woman posted up on your couch, trying to be your friend and hiding your toothpaste? yes, stranger than that):
So, on the opposite side of town, I try to pull in to a spot on the street to parallel park, and I can't. I can't! I just can't do it. I'm backed all up on the sidewalk. I'm trying to straighten out my car, and I realize than I'm damn near perpendicular to the flow of traffic. I have no sense of the size of my car, or its relationship to the space, or where it really is in relation to the other cars or the sidewalk. I pull out and try again. No haps. I have occluded all memories of parallel parking skills.
And, not to brag- but to brag. I'm an awesome parallel parker.
"You can't fit in there."
-zip- -zip- -zip-
"Wow! With room to spare..."
I've prided myself on my parallel parking skillz. And, as I sit down I realize... my parallel parking skills have been atrophying since she moved in. What started as having to back out once and start over again last week, then became some really frustrating repeated curb bumping and wheel scraping two nights ago, has eroded into, "How the fuck did I get perpendicular?"
I don't even have the benefit of sex to regret in this scenario. (The thought of that just made me throw up in my mouth a little bit.) I'm completely blameless here, yet here I sit.
There's no witty ending to this. Sooze, you gotta get a job and get the fuck out- toot sweet.
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