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The Queen of Wishful Thinking
 
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Monday, February 7th, 2005

    Time Event
    9:53a
    Fueled by the Rage
    Today, I have my rage on. Seriously. At 8am, I was that person, striding angrily up Bay Street, muttering to myself with that "WHO wants some? do YOU want some?" glare to all fellow pedestrians, ready to throw down at a moment's provocation. There is about a 70% chance that this aggression is brought about by pre-menstrual hormones. You know what? I don't care. It's all unbridled fury to me.

    The Rage Infects Me at Home

    Picture it. 6:30am, Weston: my sweetheart JVL kisses me on the forehead and leaves for work. I'm feeling languid and content. The flannel sheets are warm, and the alarm clock is silent. All's well with the world. I brush my teeth and think, "won't it be lovely when I go downstairs and my paint supplies are waiting for me, thoughtfully returned as promised yesterday by my roommate A."

    I hear said roommate wake up. He comes out of his room and says "Hey." I smile and we walk downstairs together. I look around. There are no paint supplies. I look at the absence of paint supplies. I look at A. He looks at the floor. I look back at the empty space where they belong. I move to the kitchen and look there, just in case. Ditto for the hallway. I check the basement, and the laundry room. No paint tray. No brushes. No rollers. While in the basement, I hear the front door shut. A. has left the house before I can "discuss" this with him.

    I have had ENOUGH. Returning to the upper floor, I gaze about A's room, briefly contemplating trashing the place, before concluding that he probably wouldn't notice the difference. Then, a remark I made in passing over the weekend floats back to me. Give the man a taste of his own medicine. I calmly walk over to the desk, unplug his laptop, and leave the room.

    Envisioning the conversation to follow tonight, I see A. asking me if I know where his laptop has gone. I see myself responding calmly with, "Yes, I took it to work with me. But that's cool, right? Because that's how we do things around here; take stuff without asking, to unspecified offsite locations, for however long we like, and then return it at our convenience? Because we live in a commune?" When he inevitably gets pissed, I am going to shove his double standard right down his smoke-roasted throat.

    Argument #1: But that was my COMPUTER! I only took your PAINTING TOOLS!
    Response: Listen, asshole. I don't care WHAT you want to "borrow", you freaking ask for it first, and you don't take it out of the goddamn house. Also? If I ask for it back, like I did, say, Saturday, and again on Sunday, you bring it the hell back RIGHT AWAY. Not, "when you want to". If you take stuff without asking and don't bring it back, that is called STEALING. I am not your sister, or your girlfriend, and I am not a lending library. It is not cool to take my belongings just because I have a lot of them. Don't make the mistake of thinking I won't notice, or retaliate. And don't do it again.

    Argument #2: Isn't this a little extreme, you crazy beotch?
    Response: Perhaps. But welcome to 'the Chicago Way', son. Let's examine your "borrowing" history, shall we? You've "borrowed" items - CDs, DVDs, backpacks, gaming systems - *repeatedly* from my boyfriend that you taken from the house and have NEVER returned, or offered compensation for. I want to establish right off the bat that this will NOT be our relationship. I am not going to sit idly by while you carouse through my personal effects and decide what you like and want to "borrow", like you did with my Wu-Tang Clan "Raise the Flag" album, or every pack of matches or lighter we have EVERY BROUGHT into the house. No, sir. Not happening. You bring back my painting tools, you get your laptop back. And hopefully we don't do this again. I am not eager for this situation to escalate, and I'm sure I have a lot more to lose than you do if it does, but seriously, I will not live in fear of losing my possessions IN MY OWN HOME.

    We'll see how this conflict resolves itself tonight. Or whenever the hell he comes back to the house.

    The Rage Follows Me To Work )

    Current Mood: infuriated
    4:20p
    Anchovy! Check this out...
    [info]cranly, this link to random quotes of people talking on the streets of New York City is made for you. I hope you contribute to it.

    Stolen from [info]lamagnifique

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