Update on the evacuation situation from the last post: things are back to normal. As in, we’re back home. As in, that irritating jerk of a tenant gets a second chance and, for the time being, gets to keep his undeserved house along with his absolute disrespect for other human beings.
… I say all this with absolute objectivity, of course. No bias evident whatsoever.
For obvious reasons, I’m not exactly overjoyed about this new development, but at least now I no longer have to sneak around my own house flinging open closets and desk drawers to evince potential knife-wielding assailants. Which, I have to say, is a huge relief.
The last entry cut off before my mom and I left for her friend’s house, so this one will cover the next steps of that journey. I call it a journey because when the only times you ever leave the house are when doing so is absolutely necessary—like if you’re running low on Cheetos—every venture outside can be classified as a journey.
Because I have unlimited writing space but extremely limited motivation, I will conveniently sum up our stay in a brief list of Things I Have Learned from this trying experience.
Things I Have Learned From This Trying Experience
- I am a mess. While not exactly news per se, this point became immensely evident as the night progressed. Upon arriving at Mom’s friend’s house, I was struck by how orderly its interior was. This, of course, was probably amplified by effect of comparison. My own room, with its perpetually unmade bed and nonvisible floor, bears an uncanny resemblance to a disaster zone. Probably due to my tendency to drop things that frustrate me, such as my Biology homework or my planner or my cat, onto the floor. Out of sight, out of mind.
- Saying “Wow, does anyone even live here?” to express your awe at the house’s flawlessness will be met with a we’ll-talk-later glare from Mom.
- Be cool, but not TOO cool, as you don’t want to intimidate your host family.
- Probably the most important point of all: show interest in the kid’s toys, but not TOO much interest.
- In order to succeed in life, you must learn how to say no. You must not yield. Not even when the child brings his entire collection of mechanized beluga whales to your door, not even when you’re working on an excruciating list of history terms, not even when he peeks up at you with those eyes that are, let’s be real, entirely too large for his face. Not even then.
- Normal people eat a wholesome dinner at an actual table at a proper evening hour, as opposed to an entire bag of Four Cheese Cheez-Its in front of the computer for every meal and every “meal” in between meals.
- If you sit right by the children as they are eating ice cream and stare longingly into their Bob the Builder bowls for long enough, you will be offered some, too. Eventually.